Boxer and Socks with Suspender (Revamped, Gender Bend)
by KuroSaburo
Summary: A revision of my previous Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt Gender Bender story.
1. This is What We're Dealing with, Folks

**1**

Boxer woke up feeling half-hot, half-freezing-cold. Smacking his slightly chapped lips he realized his mouth was particularly dry and foul-tasting, and—upon checking his breath on his palm—foul-smelling.  
"Ah, piss!" he exclaimed in repulsion, rousing his bedmate while he was at it.  
Oh right, he thought. It was one of those...  
The bitch was a bleached-blonde, with a vaginal passage as vast and dry as the Sahara Desert; the experience left Boxer with no satisfaction and he ended up having to jerk the nut on his own. He could have sworn that he heard his younger brother's complaints in his ear.  
Oh yeah, Boxer thought, that was from last night.  
You see, reader, Boxer was contented to do _it_ wherever, whenever, however (Socks suspected his brother may have been an exhibitionist). And so, the night before, he had been ushered out of the living room, then out of the kitchen, then out of the bathroom, upon bringing the "bitch" home, until he realized his bedroom was right there, and hurried the blondie in to get it on.  
And what a disappointment she turned out to be! And after all that trouble... It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for Socks's prissy, know-it-all, loudmouthed ass. Boxer had to drag his own sorry, naked ass out of bed, and his feet across the carpet toward the bathroom.  
He slammed the door in disregard to his nightly companion.  
Boxer stepped into the shower, gritted his teeth at the sudden sting of ice-cold water, and sighed as it became gradually warmer. He leaned his shoulder against the tiled wall and sighed again as he relieved himself. Briefly he wondered what time it was, but figured he didn't much care to know either way.  
Once he had finished his shower and brushed his teeth, he pulled on a pair of shorts and figured he'd go for a jog. A little exercise should do him some good, right?  
"Good morning, darling."  
Oh shit.  
"Yeah, hey, babe," Boxer forced a smile to greet the blonde he'd brought home to lay.  
Really? He could have sworn she was good-looking yesterday.  
Sitting up in his bed, her makeup was running, and her true colors started to show through. She looked well enough to have been cast for Michael Jackson's _Thriller_, at least to Boxer.  
"Listen, I'm going to get some breakfast then go out for a run," he cracked his neck to relieve some pressure. "You can stay or you can go, but I don't know when I'll be back."  
Boxer wondered if she'd take the hint? He tried appearing disinterested; he wasn't making eye-contact with her, and it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. In his peripheral vision he could make out a smile playing on her thin—once plump and kissable—lips. Looks like he would have to kick her out in the end.  
Honestly! She was dressed like a hooker, standing out on the street and smiling oh so coyly at every man that passed her by. She was just _asking_ for some stranger to pick her up to take her home and bone her.  
Normally Boxer wouldn't have had the gall to pay for sex, but she looked that damn good at the time that he didn't mind dropping a few coins. _If _it had cost him at all (which it didn't). Maybe it was just because he had been _that _horny at the time.  
It was supposed to have been a one-night stand. Maybe he shouldn't have said that she could stay if she wanted to. In the back of her mind she must have been thinking that one night was enough to win his heart with.  
Not in this life, bitch, Boxer thought, try again next time.  
There wouldn't be one.

Boxer descended the stairs leading to the front room a little later, wearing his green-and-yellow jogging suit.  
"All right, brother?" His brother, Socks, greeted him as he reached the foot of the stairs, through a milkshake that had been kept in the fridge overnight.  
The cherry had already been eaten.  
"Yeah," Boxer spoke through a yawn, stretching his arms overhead.  
"That's good," Socks started and got up from the couch. He approached Boxer in a way that made the latter tense.  
"Do you see this, brother?" Socks said, looking at his brother with an eerie sort of malice.  
"S, see what? Hey, back up off me, man, I ain't do shit!" Boxer said immediately, retreating back a couple paces.  
"The guilty are always likely to say so right off the bat," Socks grabbed Boxer by the front and pulled him in closer. "Look at my eyes, Boxer. Do you see the bags underneath?"  
Boxer blinked confusedly as he stared his brother in the face.  
"...Weren't they always there?"  
That had been the wrong thing to say, obviously.  
"SHIT!" Boxer held his face as it pulsed with a new, throbbing pain. Socks had punched him, knocking him back onto the stair.  
"What's your problem!?" Boxer glowered up at his younger brother, looking weaker than his body type suggested, from his current position.  
Socks Anarchy stood mere centimeters shorter than his older brother at full height, and unlike his brother, he embraced the Gothic subculture and its look. As of now he wore clothes that made him appear all the more childlike, favoring black and white stripes today.  
In the right dress he could appear more mature, a man instead of a boy. A handsome gentleman. The total opposite of his older brother, Boxer. He prided himself as such, and anything to contradict this notion was unforgivable.  
That included his own brother.  
"That hooker bitch's screaming kept me from getting a good night's sleep," Socks began, looking down his nose at his brother haughtily. "I am holding you accountable, seeing as how you're the one who brought her in here with you in the first place." Socks tossed his head, getting his hair out of his eye.  
It was getting to be long, reaching down his neck.  
"Well sorry for getting in the way of your beauty rest, that's really _too _bad," Boxer got up and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, sucking his teeth. "I still say that if you let us fuck in the front room in peace you wouldn't have had to have heard her call my name."  
"You never said that to begin with (Boxer's face became a shade pinker). You will not have your affairs where I can see them, and I'd prefer if you'd have them where I can't _hear_ them either."  
"You're just mad 'cause you can't get any. I feel ya, bro. It's no big deal," Boxer shrugged it off, chuckling in what he considered to be understanding. "Whaddaya say I get you a night with a cute little number, and we put this thing behind us? It'll make you happy, trust me."  
"I want nothing to do with you or your herpes-spreading associates."  
"Stop being such a damn prude! You'd be nicer for it."  
"I am not prudish, I simply have higher standards. I can get the women you deal with easily, _because_ they are easy," Socks scoffed and waved his hand derisively. "They'd be lucky if I even gave them so much as a second glance."  
"Tch, you self-righteous—!"  
"You cunting man-whore."  
"You sugar-cum-spewing—!"  
"You and your miniscule baby prick," Socks's lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "All that screaming had been forced and exaggerated."  
"Like you would know! You'd prefer to be on the receiving end anyway," following the barks, Boxer's expression softened and almost seemed rueful. "Listen, I'm about to head out. Could you get rid of that blonde-bitch for me?"  
"What? Why would I clean up after the mess YOU'VE made?"  
"Just, please? I think she seriously wants to stick around. That can't be good for either of us, can it?"  
Socks paused, crossing his arms, looking as if he were considering it.  
"And why can't you show her the door yourself? It's right there." Socks said and gestured behind him with his thumb.  
"Yeah, but that makes me look like the bad guy."  
"Worrying about your reputation when you can be found at the sleaziest of clubs and bars? They know you by name," Socks blew a raspberry sort of laugh. "Face it, dickwad, whatever cleaner reputation you may have had, you've since tarnished it."  
"Shut up! Just do this one favor for me, will you, bro?" Boxer placed a hand on his kid brother's shoulder as he made for the exit proper.  
"...I would have been more inclined to do so had this really been the first and only favor you've asked of me..."  
"Yeah, I owe ya one, bro!" Boxer called back before slamming the door behind him.

Here on Earth us mere mortals were graced with the presence of Heaven's angels.  
Right here in Daten city, in which resides our titular angelic brothers, Boxer and Socks Anarchy, and what lies on the fault line betwixt Heaven and Hell.  
The angel brothers were here, upon Heaven's orders, to do away with the Ghosts that plagued the otherwise defenseless city and its citizens. It really should not have been such a difficult task for the angels, because apparently, with each passing year, the Ghosts themselves gradually become that much weaker—though no less arrogant. Unfortunately, the angels themselves are quite juvenile.  
They had not had hands-on experience since arriving here on Earth, and what's worse, they're constantly bickering and are at odds with each other. They have to be watched over by the priestess that ran Daten's church atop Celetubby Hill—she provides them with room and board, and the guidance to see them through... Even so, the brothers indulge themselves on material, earthly pleasures like sinners—that being the very reason why they were cast out of Heaven in the first place. They were, in a sense, seeking redemption. Nevertheless, they are still in possession of their _Holiness_, in garment and spirit alike.  
They've the potential to be a formidable angelic duo, but for right now, the only foes in which the brothers had to combat with were fitness, and a woman's scorn.  
"Forgive him. It's how he was born," Socks spoke evenly to the weeping blonde woman Boxer thrust upon himself. "You'll find better."  
_Not in this life, but yeah, you hang onto hope, _was what Socks was thinking to himself.  
"Do—do you really think so?" she asked him, sniffling and gazing up at him through tear-stained eyes.  
Socks could see the gears turning in her head. She was plotting in the most predictable way already.  
"Not here. But elsewhere." Socks told her sternly, narrowing his eyes at her.  
She gasped and looked downcast.  
"R, right. I understand." With that, she gathered her things and finally left the church.  
"He'd better thank me for this," Socks said aloud to himself once she had gone.  
Socks had gone upstairs to his room after that, and once inside, he approached his dresser and leaned in close to examine himself in the mirror. He saw how his hair fell with him, bangs hanging well past his chin.  
He pursed his lips in contemplation.

Just outside, a curious and ugly green dog named Chuck was relieving himself in the flowerbeds.  
This dog just so happened to belong to the angels of the church. Often he was abused in some way or another... .  
Suddenly, Chuck jumped and was instantaneously struck by vicious lightning; not a cloud had been in the sky prior...  
As the poor dog lay sizzling and writhing, he began heaving and retched: Out of his mouth came a stained and tattered piece of parchment with a message written in bright bold letters.

...

"Yo, I'm back!" Boxer said upon reentering the church, well after noon. He didn't even bother to wipe his feet... .  
"Do you see this?" Socks was once again there to greet him, and he immediately shoved a slip of paper into Boxer's face.  
"What is it?" He blinked, then some repugnant aroma wafted up and grazed his nostrils. "Ugh! And why does it smell like ass?"  
Before he could get over himself and read what the message said, the door beside him forced itself open, and a substantial Black woman in billowing white robes entered the front room.  
"Oh, hi, Suspender." Boxer said, seeming none-too-pleased by her presence.  
Suspender intruded upon them without any regard, snatching the piece of paper from Socks's hand like it wasn't shit.  
She was a mountainous and powerful Black woman (that didn't need no man), the kind you wouldn't want to mess with, and so Socks held his tongue, knowing better.  
"Ya'll know what this means?" Suspender asked them in her titillating soprano voice.  
"No. What?" Boxer asked, raising his chin.  
"It means ya'll better get yo' fuckin' asses in gear before they get beat!" Suspender momentarily went redder in the face as she shouted, immediately getting hot with Boxer, as if the angelic blond should have already known! "I can't stand these vague-ass texts, but that's all ya'll have to go on try'na find that ghost."  
"Yes, they are rather bothersome." Socks commented airily.  
"What's it even say?" Boxer hadn't had the chance to read it, since it's been shoved and snatched and waved around before he could.  
"Can't you read print?! The motherfucker says 'Milk'!"  
"Why the hell does it say 'milk'? Are we goin' after a fat cow? Want us to bring you back a gallon?"  
Suspender was on the verge of slapping the taste out of Boxer's mouth, but then she stopped. Her tone, which had gone from pleasant female soprano to stereotypical, imposing _Black Momma_, settled to a more calmer note as she spoke again this time. "...That doesn't sound like a bad idea, come to think of it."  
"What the fuck?" Boxer stood there blinking like a deer caught in headlights.  
"While you're out, why don't you pick up some groceries for me? I have the list already made," she handed Boxer a different sheet of paper, listing the groceries she'd need. Milk included.  
"But I just got back home! I went and covered two blocks and ran down and up this goddamned hill!"  
"Considering you're an angel, that is mere child's play," chimed Socks. "Nothing to fuss over. I don't think even a human would complain. No wonder you're worried for your figure, poor woman." He sniggered.  
"This is coming from the shit-stain that wears makeup and keeps his hair in a ponytail!" Boxer didn't want to acknowledge the change at first.  
"...Motherfucker has a point..." Suspender rubbed her chin, looking at Socks as if for the first time.  
"Don't you go siding with the small-dicked delinquent!" Socks shouted, losing his composure for a brief second (and subconsciously fingering strands of his hair).  
"'Don't matter. What matters is you two gettin' ya'll little asses in Mink and findin' and eradicatin' that Ghost before I get ugly!" Suspender cuffed at the two angel brothers as they made a break to get out of dodge.

"Mink" referred to the angels' Jeep Wrangler. It was shoddy but cared for, and Boxer was certainly attached to it.  
Boxer took the wheel drove him and his brother out recklessly, down the slope, and onto the main road.  
Socks sat quietly in the passenger seat, mulling over a map of Daten city, with a mug of sweetened coffee in his hand and a bag of chocolates at his side. He seemed completely unperturbed, confident in himself that he could finish his coffee safely while Boxer set himself on abusing Mink's gas pedal.  
After a few minutes, Boxer turned to his brother with a smirk.  
"You think we can find 'im at a Dairy Queen?" Boxer asked, jokingly.  
"Yes," said Socks, without looking up from the map.  
"You just want to go for your own fucking benefit!" Boxer chewed on the inside of his cheek.  
"Yes," Socks sipped pointedly from his mug and allowed himself a smirk of his own.  
"Be satisfied with the shit you have in your hands right now!"

...

"Ah, fuck! This city is huge." He scratched in his hair, with one hand on the wheel.  
Up until now, Boxer hadn't had the will to stray too far from the church whenever he went out. He and his brother were still new to this city after all, though now that they were sent to eliminate the first of many ghosts, they would have had to venture further out. The map kept them from getting lost, but with no sure direction, it might as well have been useless.  
"It can't hurt to check a Dairy Queen," Socks said after a long stretch of awkward silence. "'Milk' is all we have to go on. It could be at any number of places selling milk or milk-based products."  
"... The supermarket?" Boxer grinned.  
Socks held up the grocery list that Suspender handed to them earlier.  
"I'll drop you off." Boxer said.  
"What about you? What the hell are you going to do?"  
"If we split up, we can cover more ground."  
"Logic is a foreign language to you, brother. What. Are you going. To do?" Socks narrowed his eyes at him.  
"Yoo act wike I'm gonna do sumpthin'," Boxer puckered his lips and spoke in an annoying baby voice.  
"When aren't yoo doin' 'sumpthin''?" Socks mimicked him, then rolled his eyes.  
Boxer laughed.  
"You aren't scared to actually run into the ghost on your own now, are you?"  
"I'm not falling for that, Boxer." Socks idly pinched at strands of his two-toned hair.  
"What's with that anyway?" Boxer asked, watching him out of the corner of his eye.  
"What's with what?"  
They were arriving in the lot of the supermarket now.  
"Your hair, man. You should get it cut." Boxer scanned the lot for a place to park.  
"Hm? Are you coming with me?" Socks asked once he figured out that that's what Boxer was doing.  
"You got a problem with it?" Boxer blinked a few times, then turned an angry look at Socks. "Don't go changing the subject!"  
"What are you worried about how I present myself for, anyway?" Socks was eying Boxer suspiciously.  
"You make it sound like this is the first time," Boxer sighed. "You get that we look nothing alike, right?"  
"... That's bothered you?" Socks tried to keep himself from sounding surprised.  
"Hell no! Why would you think it bothered me?" Boxer answered, a bit too quickly.  
Socks decided not to press the issue further, and got out once Boxer parked the jeep.

"See anything that looks like a ghost?" Boxer asked while walking down the aisles with his brother pushing the shopping cart.  
"Unfortunately no, I do not," Socks looked this way and then that. "Frankly, I don't think a ghost would go publicly announcing himself anyway."  
"So how are we supposed to find them? I didn't come out here just to run that nagging priestess's errands, you know!"  
"I know. But isn't it the courteous thing to do?" Socks batted naturally long eyelashes at his brother, pressing a hand to his heart in mock chivalry.  
Though a little weirded out, Boxer couldn't help but laugh, and Socks laughed along with him.  
At the checkout, Boxer found himself noticing a strange coloration in the milk. Grabbing it out of storage, it didn't much occur to him to check it before. It wasn't even soft brown like chocolate milk, and it wasn't supposed to be either.  
"What's wrong, brother?" Socks said, noting Boxer's expression.  
"Uhh..." Boxer shook his head. Maybe it was just his imagination. All things considered, he did get off to a rough start this morning. "Nothing. It's nothing."  
With the shopping done, Boxer drove out onto the main road again, catching traffic at its worse: Lunch hour, and everyone was heading to the nearest fast food restaurant for a quick, easy, fattening meal. Boxer freed a hand and made to rub at his belly, feeling hunger pangs. He'd skipped out on breakfast.  
A nauseatingly sweet aroma tickled his senses and he glanced down to see a pretty bag of chocolates in front of him.  
"Ew, no!" Boxer made to shove Socks's hand away.  
"Well I tried to be nice, dick cheese." Socks blew air out of his mouth, exasperated.  
"Keep your balls of sugar-shit to yourself!"  
Boxer swerved into a line of waiting cars at a drive-thru, unable to take it any longer.  
"We're not that much farther from home, Boxer. I could make you something nutritious."  
"Don't talk to me about nutrition when all you eat is putrid sweet candy junk all the damn time."  
"... Touche." Socks kept to himself as Boxer went to get his greasy fix.

...

"You think Suspender'll be satisfied with just this?" Boxer said, shoving a few french fries into his mouth.  
"No, I'm sure she won't be. But who the hell cares anyway?" Socks lifted his chin thoughtfully. "If the ghost is a threat, we should be hearing about him soon enough. We'll tell her that."  
"Right..." Boxer wasn't looking forward to returning home again to Suspender yelling about his incompetence. He scrunched up his nose in disgust of the thought itself. Turning at the intersection, and beginning to climb the slope, Boxer deliberately slowed Mink's speed and began laughing mirthlessly.  
"Are you finally slipping into insanity, brother?" Socks asked without an ounce of concern.  
"Shut up!"  
Socks chuckled at his brother's expense, but it would be some of his too, as soon as they walked through that door...

"The church bells ain't rung, what're ya'll doin' back here?" Suspender said, standing upon the dais in the church hall, arms crossed. She seemed to stand several feet taller and at that seemed several times more imposing.  
"We ain't know where to look, you can't blame us, shit." Boxer replied, slouching in a pew; whereas his brother sat beside him, gorging himself on an elaborate sundae. "By the way..." Boxer sat up a little straighter, his eyes narrowed and focused on the visitor standing next to Suspender on the dais.  
"I see you finally noticed our guest," Suspender said, her expression softening by a fraction.  
"Yeah... I tell ya, it was kind of hard though," Boxer gestured to their guest, a stout woman in a gray suit. "She's so damn small."  
"Mind your manners, boy! This poor little woman's actually here requesting our assistance."  
"'Assistance'? You think we'd help some old—"  
"_Manners_, Boxer," Socks began sternly. He then turned to the elderly woman before him. "How can we be of assistance to you, ma'am?"  
Inwardly, Socks figured the women feeble, and she seemed to be constantly fidgeting. It annoyed the hell out of the angel boy, and he wanted nothing more than to hurry and be done with her, so that he didn't have to gaze upon her pathetic visage any longer.  
"Y, yes, well... You see..." she spoke in a mousy squeak, which grated on the ears. "Recently, as you may have already known, Daten's new high school was open to the public. I am their principal," she paused, seeming to have been expecting a response to this.  
She must have known how tiny and insignificant she appeared to be. She might have even gotten flak from the students and staff members alike. Which was generally unheard of, concerning any other self-respecting principal. But this woman appeared to be a total pushover, and that was Chuck humping her leg right now... .  
"Go on." Socks prompted her.  
"R, right," she produced a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at the sweat forming on her brow. She began again, while trying desperately to ignore the dog's attempts at copulation. "Things have been running smoothly until just recently: students have been acting wily, getting into mischief... At first it hadn't been so bad, they were harmless pranks played upon themselves that didn't cause anyone no real harm..." she paused again to take a breath. "Then it started getting out of hand. We're doing our best to keep things in order, but... but, but, but, but," she stammered.  
"But then some of the children started to go missing!"  
"Have you contacted the police?" Socks asked. He felt his mouth twitch as the principal began her inane stammer, but kept on his nice-guy facade.  
"Yes, they're looking into it, but as far as we can tell, there's just no physical trace of them left. I..." The principal gasped and started dabbing incessantly at her sweat-stained forehead. "I... Believe it may have been the work of some... supernatural being."  
"You're superstitious." Socks stated.  
"Oh, you think me strange, don't you?" She appeared crestfallen. Likely she'd been made fun of for it before.  
"No, not at all," Socks set aside his now-empty glass and spoon, then gave the principal his full attention for the first time. "I don't suppose, ah... If you don't mind me asking, that is... is milk involved in any way?"  
"Milk?" The principal said, bewildered. "Er, now let me think a moment, erm..."  
She appeared to have been thinking hard on it, and the mere act seemed to have been causing her a lot of strain and discomfort.  
"Never mind. It was stupid to ask that."  
"Damn straight," Boxer readily agreed, grinning.  
Socks shot him a quick glare before turning to readdress the fretting, superstitious principal with a reassuring nod of his head.  
"We'll look into it."  
"Waitaminnit, who says?" Boxer lifted his head and turned to face his brother fully; it was his turn to glare.  
"We'll look into it." Socks said more firmly.  
"Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, tha—GET OFF!" Finally losing her patience, she gave Chuck the dog a swift kick in the rear, sending the green canine soaring towards the two angel brothers.  
The brothers themselves promptly began taking turns, pummeling the dog as if he'd offended them as well. They did not stop until Chuck was reduced to trembling organ and pieces of flesh.  
"You're very welcome. We'll begin the investigation tomorrow." Socks smiled, feeling pleased with himself.

...

"You get off on that, don't you?" Boxer said as he sat beside his baby brother in front of the TV.  
"On what?" Socks asked, occupying himself with a chocolate bar.  
"Acting like a gentleman when you ain't really give a damn about that principal bitch," Boxer started trembling, balling his hands and trying to appear as meek as possible with such a broad, muscly physique. "S-s-s-stammerin' like p-p-p-p-poor Piglet."  
Socks mentally kicked himself in the shin for laughing at Boxer's imitation.  
"It's for our own benefit," Socks shrugged. "Besides, don't you want to see some action, finally? Aside from fucking whatever dirty skank ho you can find."  
"Well yeah..." Boxer scratched his side.  
Although they've only been on Earth for a couple weeks, Boxer was well-known enough here and there in Daten, even though he hasn't seen the greater part of the city yet. He frequented the clubs several random girls he'd met on a jog some days ago—he couldn't recall the exact date—pointed out to him.  
He was treated like a celebrity for his good looks and the Holy aura he naturally emitted, and he didn't much mind it at all.  
It got him pussy enough to occupy himself with, decent drinks when he wanted something robust, and even a bit of excitement when the jealous peer chanced fighting him for dominance. He earned that reputation Socks belittled him for, and he was damn proud of it as it was.  
He felt bad for his brother, though, when he allowed himself to. Socks must not have been seeing that much action; did he ever even leave the church? It wasn't as far as Boxer could see.  
"What are you staring at me for?" Socks asked, becoming annoyed.  
"Ah, my bad, bro." Boxer didn't even realize he had been. He glanced back at the TV, but he wasn't really watching it anymore.  
"Fine, I guess we can go check it out." Boxer said after a moment's hesitation.  
"Hm? Oh, you mean the school," Socks scoffed. "It wasn't up for debate. This is the lead we've been looking for, odds are we'd be going there to investigate even if the principal hadn't come here when she did. Eventually the Ghost in question would get out of hand, and I doubt these humans could cover it up when it did."  
"Right, right," Boxer said, not really paying attention.  
"We'll be enrolling as transfer students."  
"Yeah, yeah," Boxer said, then he paused as his brain registered what Socks'd said. "Wait, what?"  
"I said we'd be enlisting ourselves as students during the investigation."  
"Why do we gotta do that?"  
"Oh calm down you big baby, think of the high school girls in miniskirts if it helps."  
Oh, it helped all right.  
It helped a lot.  
"On second thought, don't think of the high school girls."

"Too late."


	2. The Investigation is Underway

**2**

Boxer lay snoring obnoxiously loud in his bed. He was told to go to bed early last night, but like a total douchebag he completely ignored his brother and Suspender and spent the rest of that night out. The only courteous thing he figured he did was book a room at a dilapidated motel for a quick, and better fuck than last time.  
Yet his would-be considerate act would go unnoticed and would also, probably, result with another earful.  
Boxer jerked himself awake when he felt a pain in his middle. Blinking back the fog he looked up and saw Socks baring down on him with his usual disdain. On Boxer's stomach was a box that he found contained a white dress shirt, plaid pants, and black jacket, neatly folded.  
"What's all this?" He asked.  
"Your uniform," Socks sighed. "However, don't blame me if it doesn't fit properly. I gave it my best guesstimate."  
"Do I have to put it on now?" Boxer groaned.  
"Yes," Boxer turned at the hardness in Socks's tone and realized that Socks was already in his uniform, clutching his stuffed cat, Bones, under his arm. "Hurry the fuck up or we're going to be late."  
Boxer gazed down at his uniform, then back at his brother, and grinned the shittiest of shit-eating grins imaginable.  
He had quite the knack for it.  
"Could you give me, like, five more minutes, bro?"  
Socks responded with a grin of his own.  
"Do you honestly think I would honor that, after you cut into my sleep only a day before?"  
"Hey! I did you a favor and went to a motel this time!"  
"'This time'? Oh is _that _why you were late coming home last night?" Socks spat. "I should have figured as much, considering it's you. I almost feel sorry for the girl that had to go and contract the fifty different STDs you're carrying."  
"Go fuck yourself in the ass with a giant horse dildo, I ain't wanna hear your shit so goddamned early in the morning!"  
"You know a giant horse dildo would have been a much better alternative for that poor woman, but like I said, I don't feel sorry for her," Socks waved his hand, dismissing the matter. "Just get your whore-ass up before I spring Suspender on it. You know she favors the studded belt first thing in the morning." Socks allowed himself a sadistic smile at the thought before leaving Boxer to get dressed.  
Boxer shuddered, but more so because that smile might have held other implications.

Daten's high school was newly refurbished, and bustling with activity in the throes of early autumn.  
Though, however lively the student body may be today, overhead something ominous definitely loomed; it was only made worse when days ago some of the students started to go missing without a single trace.  
Naturally Daten's police force was called on to investigate the students' disappearance, but after speaking with and interviewing every possible suspect with relations to those that went missing, they came out none-the-wiser. Search dogs were unable to pick up any scent. No one knew anything, and if they did, they weren't talking. Suspicions arose, and the highly superstitious principal of Daten High was forced to seek divine help from the church.  
She had been a stout, gray-haired woman, meek and stuttering. It's a wonder how anyone could have taken her seriously at all. Nevertheless, the younger of the angel brothers saw her plight and offered to help.  
Now she waited with bated breath as the school day started anew.

"It was difficult to find a uniform that came even remotely close to your size, you know this don't you?" Said Socks, glaring sidelong at his brother as he (Boxer) drove Mink toward the high school.  
"Yeah, you keep tellin' me, as if I can't fucking hear!" Boxer barked in irritation.  
"I reiterate, because you refuse to wear it properly," Socks said, huffing. "Once we get out of the jeep, I'll have to fix it for you, _again_." He bit out the word "again" with a little extra venom.  
Boxer wore the high school uniform shamelessly, thinking it might have made him look "cool": He left the shirt's buttons undone, leaving the toned flesh of his chest and abdomen exposed. What's more, he forewent the plaid necktie that he found also came with the whole uniform, and the same patterned pants hung an inch lower than his waist, revealing the hem of his boxer shorts.  
"I can wear it any kind of way I want, it's on _my _back." Boxer responded, lifting his chin with a toothy grin.  
"Why in the Heaven's name did God have to saddle me with a pathetic excuse for an older—_older_—brother like you," Socks said, brandishing the high school's brochure at his brother like a weapon. Socks made a point to actually read it, unlike his brother. "But you, at the very least, remember that we're not here to announce ourselves as angels. We're incognito. We don't want to cause a scene or widespread panic, it will only hinder—"  
Socks was rudely cut off as Boxer pressed the accelerator, flooring it with a maniac look in his eye. He drove with reckless abandon, making a stellar, property-damaging entrance on school grounds, into the school building. He all but rammed Mink through solid concrete wall.

Mink was super reinforced, he was fully capable of handling collisions of that nature, and worse when need be.  
But this was not needed, and, predictably, the angels—Socks unwittingly—garnered the attention of roughly the entire student body and staff. The lucky ones managed to escape being buried under mountains of debris and avoid injury.  
It seemed virtually impossible for Mink to fit into the hallway as he did, but he did, with nary a scratch of scuff mark on him. Boxer stepped out of the jeep and patted the hood of it fondly.  
"That's my baby." He said.  
"Subtlety, motherfucker, do you _know _of it?!" Socks bellowed, opening the door with excessive force in order to clear away bits of rubble and student. He ignored the gaping mouths and wide-eyes as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.  
"I might have dated the whore, but it didn't end well." Boxer said, snickering.  
"None of your relationships end well," Socks glanced over his shoulder, scowling. He sent two lengthy texts to both Suspender and the principal, apologizing profusely to her about the damage (but making no plans to pay for any of the expenses in repair out of his own wallet).  
"Right then, the direct approach it is." Socks sighed, shoving his phone back in his pocket.  
He surveyed the surrounding area, noting every face that stared back at him.  
_All ya'll motherfuckers ugly! _Socks thought with a grimace.  
It had not been what he expected. Most weren't even wearing their uniforms, let alone properly! Just the sight of these ungrateful, and no doubt unruly delinquents made Socks's stomach churn unpleasantly. He wanted to vomit.  
"If they're not even gonna wear their uniforms, why should we?" Boxer said, coming up to stand beside his brother, arms crossed. He smirked and reached for the ends of his shirt in an attempt to lift it over his head. Naturally, the female portion of their onlookers went crazy as Boxer began what acquainted to a strip tease. He even gave them all a wink as he did it.  
"Keep it in your pants, we're not here to breed, we're here to exterminate." Socks restated firmly, putting an end to his brother's nonsense hurriedly.  
"Hell yeah, but who says we can't do both at the same time?" Boxer howled his excitement.  
"I say we can't, because it'll take that much longer."  
"I can bear the wait if it means I can have a couple fucks on the side."  
"I'm afraid to say I don't share your sentiments. And being seen with you and ruining my beautiful image," Socks forced Boxer back a few paces. "Kindly keep within said distance of me, or farther if it helps, while we're here."  
"What? I can't even be close to my bro? Don't you need me?" Boxer clapped his hands together, batting eyelashes but stopping short to rub them as it irritated his eyes to do so. "Fuck..."  
"Brother, YOU need ME." Socks said, rolling his own eyes.  
Boxer placed his hands at his hips and snorted at the comment, turning up his nose with a cocky attitude. He made of show of peering through the crowd, lifting a hand to his forehead. Acquiring his target: a meek little Ginger with a slightly thick frame, clacking her knees together, obviously distraught, he straightened his back and strutted over to her location. He pulled her to him aggressively, a hand round her waist and subtly creeping lower.  
"'Sup?" Boxer said coolly.  
"I, I, I—!" She stuttered in response.  
"Listen, my brother and I are new here, so if ya don't mind my askin'," he leaned in especially close, and his voice took a huskier sort of tone. "How's about you showin' us the ropes, eh?"  
"W, w, what?" The girl made her first, fatal mistake of looking Boxer in the face.  
It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that angels were exceptionally beautiful creatures—not a blemish or imperfection on their awesome and holy visage. It goes without saying how someone with such an attitude and disregard and respect for others could win the hearts of the women he'd already slept with. And there were many.  
It seemed this pitiable girl would be no different.  
"'What'? I'm askin' you to show me and my bro around," Boxer had to keep from rolling his eyes at having to explain further. "You can do that, can't ya? I'll even give you a reward for your trouble." Boxer said, revealing a bit more skin with a shrug of his shoulders.  
"W, what!?" Her face at the moment could have made the sun envious of her. The shade was an astounding vermillion, and almost blinding in luminosity.  
"What? What? He wants your tender buttmeat, madam." Socks responded to her in a dull, deadpanned tone, enough to dim the light emitting from her heavily freckled face significantly.  
"_What_?!" She shrieked in a panic.  
"Motherfucker! I dare any of ya'll to say 'what' one more time!" Boxer hollered, finally losing his cool.  
He removed his hand and the girl was sorry for it.  
"W, w, w, w, wait...!" She said in an impressive imitation of the principal's own stutter.  
"What?!" Boxer caught and mentally slapped himself. "Goddammit..." He muttered, covering his mouth and managing to look sheepish.  
"Y, y, y, you... I mean, just... WHO are you?"  
"I—" Boxer began, but was instantly cut off by his brother's interjection.  
"Excuse him," Socks began, elbowing Boxer and drawing the girl's attention to himself instead. "My name is Socks Anarchy, we're new here." He extended a hand in friendly gesture.  
The girl hesitated to shake it, but did.  
"Knickers," she allowed herself a timid smile and curtsy. "B, but, you two came here, and look at what you've done!" She gestured to Mink and the mess Boxer'd made with him.  
"We'll pay for the cost in property damage," Socks lied.  
"H, how can you?"  
"You're underestimating me, sweetie." Socks smirked, looking at her with slightly narrowed, dangerous eyes. "That's not a very nice thing to do."  
"I—!" Knickers squeaked shrilly, but was interrupted by the bell for first period. "I need to go!" She scrambled for the excuse to leave, and ran with her long skirt billowing behind and around her thick legs.

"That could have gone better," Boxer said idly, hands behind his back as he walked down the hall, accompanied by his brother. "But we made one hell of a first impression, don't you think?"  
"Yes, but I wouldn't say it was a good one," Socks grumbled.  
It was relatively easy, getting past the initial shock, to ask a fellow student for directions to their homeroom. They were definitely the odd ones out, and would be talked about. Whether avoided or crowded, they'd have eyes watching them, and ears constantly listening in somehow, somewhere. This did not bode well for their investigation, but with luck, the ghost would reveal himself. Hopefully sooner rather than later.  
"Don't worry so much about it, bro," Boxer chuckled, patting Socks on the shoulder as they rounded the corner and eventually came to the door of what they supposed were the right classroom. "Come on, how hard could it be, going to school?"  
Boxer entered the classroom in a few short strides, head held high. He wore an attractive smile as he turned to face the other students. They watched his and his brother's entrance curiously; though some were content to remain buried in books unrelated to the curriculum, or cellphones that they hide _almost _inconspicuously under their desks.  
Boxer's gaze fell upon the ginger that he met with out in the hallway earlier. Understandably she was panic-stricken to see the new love of her life standing right before her, before the class that they would undoubtedly be sharing now—and who knows how many more?!  
To Boxer himself, she was average now that he was really _seeing _her. In fact her attire suggested she might have been a Geek: a khaki green hoodie that hinted at a moderate bust and sported stickers and logos referencing obscure B-movies and Arcade games. The items sprawled on her desk further supported the Geek theory, those being decks of trading cards and odd battery-run toys. Seeing all this just lowered her attractiveness by a significant portion overall.  
Boxer turned his attention elsewhere and immediately found a better candidate for a fuck buddy on the side: a girl that was eying him approvingly as well. She was cute and petite, with bubble-gum pink hair. Sitting just in front of her was a boy that shared a few of the same facial features and bone structure as her, yet his hair was honey-blond and cropped shorter. He was giving Boxer the stink eye, seeing as how he was ogling the girl behind him quite obviously. He must have been her boyfriend, or more likely her brother.  
Boxer turned his head on finding a good-looking girl that would have been easier to acquire without all the hassle. He found an extraordinary brunette and knew instantly that that was who he was going to go after first. He rubbed his hands together, plotting and chuckling deviously, and as he did so, he was elbowed quite harshly in the side by his brother.  
This was the first he was taking notice of the teacher now, and apparently he'd given a little speech of introductory as prompted by Socks upon their arrival.  
The teacher's name was Mr. Rider Crop, a ghastly-looking character with a sullen, sallow face and eerie grin that rubbed Boxer the wrong way. His voice was cringe-worthy as Boxer now had the mind to hear it properly.  
"Please welcome Boxer and Socks Anarchy, class," Mr. Crop said, then turned his attention back to said Anarchy brothers. "Have a seat wherever you two would like."  
"Don't mind if I do, teach!" Boxer hurried over to sit in the empty seat beside the brunette, leaning over in a manner similar to when he'd done so to Knickers.  
Knickers saw this and became downcast, playing with her fingers and telling herself that it wasn't that big of a deal.  
Mr. Crop was a social studies teacher, and once class began proper, he instructed his students to turn their textbooks to page five to begin their lesson.

The lecture dragged on for what seemed like hours; while Socks found himself hung on every word uttered by Mr. Crop, Boxer was already contemplating suicide. He couldn't even register half of what the teacher was saying. He found himself staring at the book's illustrations in disinterest, then daydreaming idly about boning two hot chicks that happened to be into each other as well as him. They happened to be the brunette (who'd introduced herself as Cocoa) and the girl sitting across from him with the pink hair.  
When half way through first period, Mr. Crop gave out an assignment to answer questions and review the chapter they'd just covered. It should have been a quick and easy little exercise, if only Boxer gave a damn.  
Before he knew it, Socks was already nearly finished, and in the remaining fifteen minutes, he'd not even answered a single question.  
Conveniently for Boxer, Socks sat right next to him, so he could be inconspicuous about passing a note asking for straight answers. Socks took one glance at the note Boxer gave to him and tore it shreds without a second thought, which utterly destroyed Boxer on the inside. This gave Socks immense satisfaction and he smirked triumphantly at his brother upon finishing his own assignment.  
Fuck you too, asswipe! Boxer thought with a pout.  
At least he'd have the cute brunette—Cocoa, her name was Cocoa!—to console him afterward.

The bell rung, and they were ushered out by their fellow students, rushing to make it to their second period class. After that was lunch, which was all anyone was looking forward to, besides P.E., and when they could finally get out of school to go home for the day.  
Second period for the two angel brothers was math. Again, Socks excelled, while Boxer was left in the dust. Or rather, flirting slyly with the girls he found to be cute. However, his fun was rudely interrupted by a swift kick to the back of his seat. Glancing back to see who the wise-ass could possibly be, he was met by piercing green eyes, partially covered by bleached-white bangs in a way that reminded Boxer of his own brother's style.  
"The fuck's YOUR problem? Asshole!" Boxer growled, forgetting (or not caring) to keep his voice down.  
"Keep your eyes to yourself, blondie," was his response.  
"Vanilla, Boxer!" Cried the math teacher.  
Boxer wasn't intimidated, at first, by this teacher. That was mostly due to his status as an angel. It gave him a confidence that bordered on plain arrogance more often than not. And yet, after the teacher scolded both him and Vanilla, and gave them both a thrashing that left their asses sore, Boxer remembered that bringing intentional harm to humans—especially those of authority—wasn't something he could just outright do as an angel.  
It was partially why he could only bite his tongue and take Suspender's ass whoopings quietly.

And with that, it was becoming more and more clear that Socks was reveling in Boxer's abuse, and he couldn't resist taunting him further on their way to lunch once the bell rang again.  
"How does it feel to know you can't always have your way, brother?" Said Socks.  
"How does it feel to be a dirty, cross-dressing, cock-sucking bitch boy?" Boxer bit back.  
"Oh come now, don't be so butt-hurt."  
"I wouldn't if you'd stop rubbing shit in my face!"  
Socks shook his head. Having his laugh, he decides to change the subject.  
"Don't forget why we're here, brother."  
"To have lunch," Boxer said, straight-faced. "Man, I'm starving!"  
"I meant besides that."  
"Huh? Oh right! The ghost."  
"We should be taking this free time to really start investigation," Socks turned to Boxer. "Try asking around. And for the love of God, keep your fucking dick in your pants!"  
"I hadn't had a chance to get any just yet, shut up!"  
Socks scowled, then suggested the two really split up here. They were to meet back out in the hallway once lunch was over with any information they'd acquired and work things out from there.  
"Yeah, sure, I gotcha bro!"  
Socks nodded and parted ways after they'd gotten their food from the counter.  
Socks approached a table closest to him and asked those already seated if he could sit with them. He smiled and found it came rather easily.  
"Yeah, sure," said the boy he recognized from math class minutes ago. Vanilla was his name.  
Vanilla was unusually tall, he might have been older than those surrounding him at the table. Socks sat across from him, drinking in and committing every minute detail of Vanilla's character to memory.  
"I hadn't got to introduce myself formally," Socks began, making light conversation. "I'm Socks Anarchy."  
"Vanilla," Vanilla nodded to those at the table with him, "this is Velcro, Hoodie, Nail, Urn and Gem."  
Gem seemed to have been the only girl at the table, while also appearing especially close to Urn, wrapped around him like a stripper on her pole.  
"Charming," Socks muttered sarcastically under his breath. "Actually, I feel I might have come at a bad time." Socks said, looking and sounding as frightened as he could.  
"Huh, yeah," Vanilla agreed.  
"Lately we've been seeing less of our friends these past few days," said Velcro.  
Velcro was a raven-haired boy, with friendly brown eyes. Prettier than he was handsome.  
"By 'less' he means 'none'." Vanilla grunted.  
"Aren't you worried?" Socks asked, then jumped as Nail slammed his palms on the table.  
"Of course we're worried!" Nail said, garnering attention, but not caring. "But there's nothing _we _can do about it, apparently!"  
"Didn't the principal try to help?" Gem said, her voice and admittedly cute face contradicting the position she had herself in by nature.  
"Yeah, if you call praying at the church 'help'." Nail rolled his eyes. "When has prayer alone done _anything_!?"  
Socks didn't much like him, but he figured he could understand where he was coming from.  
"It's as you said," Hoodie spoke. "There's nothing we can do. We have no leads, we'll just have to wait it out."  
"But they could end up closing the school for public safety," Urn said, tossing his two cents in.  
"No one's turned up dead yet, but that is a real possibility." Vanilla said thoughtfully.  
"So you really have no idea where your friends could have gone?" Socks asked.  
"No. Why are you so interested?" Vanilla stared at him, his voice even and his expression unreadable.  
"I'm worried for my brother's safety," Socks lied. "He has a habit of getting his ass in stupid shit. Other than that, it's not a good thing that people are going missing, especially when there seems to be no cause for it, or trace of them left behind."  
Vanilla nodded.  
"Here's a clue, though, it turns out everyone that ended up missing was female."  
"All of them? Just how many went up missing anyway? I never learned the number."  
"About five or six. One of them being my cousin, Mocha."  
"I'm sorry." Vanilla shook his head.  
"I can't bring myself to care all that much to be perfectly honest," he seemed saddened by this, though.  
"Why is that?"  
"Hey," Nail said sharply. "You're asking a lot of questions new guy. Yet we don't know shit about you."  
"I suppose you're right," Socks lowered his head somewhat ruefully.  
Socks ate his lunch in relative silence. When he spoke, it was off the topic of the missing persons entirely.  
Looks like he would have to work his way up to trust before he could get anymore information out of these guys. This is turning out to be more trouble than it's worth.  
He had hoped he'd be able to find the ghost in a day, but it seems like that might not be the case.

Socks glanced around the hallway after lunch was over, he didn't see his brother.

On her way to science class, Knickers stopped short upon finding Boxer and Socks's jeep still parked in the halls. She saw no obvious way to maneuver around it, aside from climbing atop it and going from there.  
Hesitantly she placed her hands on the hood and hoisted herself onto it.  
"What the hell are you doing?" Came a voice that startled the piss out of her.  
"Ah!" she screamed and ended up rolling off the side of the jeep, onto the floor.  
Looking up she found Boxer hovering over her with a lack of any real concern.  
"I asked what the hell you were doing, are you deaf?"  
"I, I, I need to get to class, and, and, and, your jeep is in the way...!" She got up quavering, seeming deeply apologetic.  
"Hmph, get in."  
"W, wh—"  
"Don't start, just get in!"  
"Right!"  
Knickers climbed into the passenger seat unsuredly, as Boxer got in beside her, taking the wheel.  
"You know I'm pretty sure we're breaking several different laws by doing this," she said.  
"'Don't care."  
Boxer revved up the engine and zoomed off down the hall, causing hundreds, possibly thousands more dollars in property damage. With Knickers screaming all the way.


	3. I'm Off Milk FOREVER!

**3**

_Boxer eased young, beautiful Cocoa onto the bathroom stall door.  
He'd stolen her away during lunch break, after he'd spotted her in the cafeteria. Boxer could hardly contain his excitement . She was probably new, and not only that, but they only had so much time to get down to business, and anyone was liable to walk in on them in the act. Of course, that only made things all the more interesting. Even if some guy did walk in, it wouldn't stop Boxer.  
He wouldn't be able to stop.  
_"_This is bad," she said.  
_"_It's OK," Boxer replied, low and mewling. "Hey, you want this, right?"  
He held onto her small shoulders. By comparison he may just as well have been a giant. He leaned in and took her ear in his mouth to lick and nibble on. He was riding hard into her backside to let her know just how much she turned him on.  
_"_Yes," she sighed. "But... There's something you ought to know before we continue..."  
Her breathing was labored, and she was pushing back into him, just as eager as he was for sex.  
She'd probably guessed that he was a lot older than high school age, and that made her all the more excitable. She could hardly care what he was actually doing here, "masquerading" as a student, but she was far too horny and he was goddamned gorgeous, and that big _thing_ was itching to penetrate her.  
_"_Whatever it is, it can wait, baby," Boxer wasn't listening. He wanted her, he wanted her badly.  
But then, after a few tugs of fabric and a long hard look at _her_, he found that he'd been far too hasty in his advance... . _

Socks had to remind himself once or twice of his duty as an angel here as he conversed amicably with Vanilla, and a couple of Vanilla's friends that shared third period with him. He was actually _enjoying_ being sociable, and at school. At least, these humans weren't as irritating and thirsting for pussy as Boxer was, or as nagging and motherly as Suspender. On top of that, he was learning much more than he could have on his own in Heaven's library, or from Suspender herself.  
Socks had just gotten started talking about his blog, when the wall exploded beside him, mid-sentence.  
"'Sup, bro?" Boxer said, throwing himself over and out of the driver's seat.  
Knickers was in the passenger seat, still trembling and trying to calm her nerves.  
Socks glowered at Boxer, and started tapping incessantly on the wood of his desk, with occasional pause in between.  
Boxer stared confusedly at him, then realization dawned on him: [Don't let out that we're related.]  
Morse Code.  
"Aw, you're that embarrassed by me?" Boxer threw an arm around Socks's shoulder, laughing it off.  
"Please remove your arm." Socks growled testily.  
"Nah, bro, listen," Boxer peered over Socks's head, then ducked down low, becoming level with him again. "I think I'm being mad-dogged."  
Socks glanced back to see that his classmates had indeed been "mad-dogging" his older brother.  
This only caused Socks to chuckle lightly.  
"You don't say," Socks drawled unsympathetically. "Where were you anyway?"  
"Huh?"  
"I told you to meet me out in the hall, but you weren't there."  
"Oh, well, you see...," Boxer halted then gazed back at Knickers, who was still rattling nervously in the passenger seat. "I had to give Ginger a ride."  
"She has two good legs, I'm sure."  
"Mm," Boxer gazed down at Knickers's legs.  
Her long skirt concealed most, but not all. It was clear how well and shapely her legs were. Boxer nodded to himself in agreement, but even an idiot could see that he and Socks weren't exactly on the same page as one another.  
"Ahem!" The teacher cleared her throat upon regaining composure.  
It's not everyday a student comes in, driving his jeep clean through the wall... .  
"Oh, yeah, can I steal Socks for a minute? Thanks!" Boxer grabbed Socks and made for the exit without waiting for an excuse.  
Socks went along with his older brother, against his better judgment.

Once out in the hall, they kept on walking and Socks figured Boxer had a particular destination in mind.  
"What have you found?" Socks asked after a long stretch of silence.  
"Er," Boxer paused mid-step and suddenly slumped his shoulders, seeming forlorn.  
"What's the matter?"  
"Nothing, nothing," Boxer shook his head and turned to give Socks an obviously forced smile. "Anyway, I think I know who the culprit is."  
Socks stared at his brother, wide-eyed, aghast, and insulted.  
"You're shitting me!"  
"Any other day I would be," Boxer grinned his infamous shit-eating grin, "shit, ten minutes earlier I would have been."  
"What changed?" Socks eyed Boxer suspiciously.  
"...Let's not talk about that."  
When Socks raised an eyebrow, Boxer shook his head and led his brother even further.  
They made their way toward the opposite end of the school building. Their destination: an empty classroom that saw very little use, if any at all. In it were desks and chairs, pushed back into the corners, and stacked atop one another, coated in thin layers of dust.  
There was a black board that was partially white with residue, and a girl inside that wrote over it with stubbly chalk.  
There were more around her, watching her as she did.  
The girl writing had hot pink hair, worn in elaborate curls. Beside her was another girl Boxer and Socks saw earlier in social studies, though her hair was, again, bubble-gum pink. The difference being that one was a lighter shade than the other.  
"Which one specifically?" Socks asked after appraising each one.  
"Supposed to be the one writing," Boxer pressed his nose to the window of the door. "I can't see how, now that I'm seeing her, though."  
"I never saw how," Socks muttered.  
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Boxer hissed. "'Know what? Never mind. I'mma take this ghost chick out and be done with it!"  
"Don't just charge in there like a buffoon!" Socks fought to hold his brother back. Their skirmish causing a commotion that didn't go unnoticed by the girls inside. "Shit..."  
"Good afternoon," Socks politely said when the girls confronted him and his brother.  
"Just what do you want?" Their supposed leader—the girl with the hot pink curls—asked. "Shouldn't you be in class right now?"  
"I could ask that of you," _stuck-up, Pinkie Pie slut,_ Socks thought, narrowing his eyes at her.  
"I am student council president, Strawberry Milk." She proudly announced, sticking her nose in the air with an aura of superiority.  
She placed her hands on her wide, practically child-bearing hips. Honestly? She had the appearance of a baby cow, plump and curvaceous.  
Quite pleasing to the eyes; Socks suspected, if she smiled she would be more so, but she was downright foul, as she did now.  
_A greasy sow, _Socks thought, _possibly the offspring of a dirty heifer, and a rutting wild boar that doesn't discriminate between the species.  
_"We're in the middle of planning for a very important, upcoming event." Said Strawberry.  
"Mind if I ask about this event?" Socks took a bold step closer to her.  
He was taller than her by many inches, and she had to look up at him. But this didn't seem to deter her any. In fact she puffed out her ample chest in open defiance.  
Socks glanced behind himself to gauge Boxer's reaction to this, fully prepared to restrain him further if need be.  
However, Boxer didn't seem to notice, which brought genuine shock and... worry, almost... to Socks.  
"Why should I have to tell you? Likely you wouldn't have anything worth contributing to our cause anyway." She said this almost knowingly.  
This made Socks all the more curious, however, and determined to get an answer out of her.  
"Now, now," Socks began.  
Then he saw that she made to slam the door in his face, which prompted him to stop it with his foot.  
"I'm sure there's no harm in letting us know, hmm? Who knows? We might even be able to aid you after all."  
Although, Socks wasn't sure about his brother just now.  
Normally, Boxer would be trying to make a pass at these girls, if not fuck them all senseless right here in the open. Socks saw how he was ogling the other pink-haired girl in homeroom before.  
"Thank you, really," Strawberry said, not thankful in the least. "But we can take care of things ourselves. It's going swimmingly. Good-bye now!"  
She gave the door several tries, willing Socks to remove his foot. Pityingly he did after a while, and she made to ignore his presence altogether from then on.

"Boxer, are you all right?"  
They ventured outside after that, having missed the rest of their third period, and on the verge of missing their fourth altogether.  
Their plans weren't to legitimately attend school anyway.  
"Yeah," Boxer really seemed out of it.  
It ate Socks up inside to know that he wasn't the cause of this radical behavior.  
"What happened. Tell me." Socks told him, sternly.  
It wasn't a request.  
"Get off my ass, bro, I'm fine!" Boxer rubbed his neck, making no real effort to hide his distress.  
And he must have known how bad he looked, for he said, "it's just... I mean... how often can you say that you really wanted to bang this hot chick... That just happened to be a guy underneath?"  
Socks eyes widened in mild surprise.  
Then he tried to make light of the situation.  
"I don't know," Socks chuckled. "After all, you say I ought to be on the receiving end. So brother, do you want to bone me?"  
"Ew. No. No. EW!" Boxer shuddered and pushed Socks away from him.  
"So you ended up trying to lay a Tranny, huh?"  
"It was weird man, I mean..." Boxer bit his lip, his face interestingly pink. "She—he! Looked so damn fine..."  
"You should give it a try, you might like it, brother."  
"Piss off," Boxer said contemptuously. "So what now? We couldn't find out if the curly-haired whore was our ghost or not. Strawberry-something..."  
"I suspect that she might be after all."  
"What changed your mind? Earlier you didn't wanna believe it."  
"Because how could _you_ find the ghost we've been looking for, when you're so utterly incompetent?"  
Boxer was too tired to shout anymore, so, in a rare occurrence, took the insult and ran with it.  
"Whatever. So you want to just take her out?" Boxer reached uncouthly down his pants in the school courtyard. "I'm itching to blow off some fucking steam, you know?"  
"Let's try not to cause another scene, we'll wait until school's over," Socks nodded. "All right?"  
"... Yeah."  
"Hey, you guys!" Boxer and Socks whipped their heads simultaneously in the direction of the new voice. "What're you doing out in the courtyard in the middle of class?"  
It was that stuttering Ginger-Geek.  
"Well... I guess it doesn't matter anyway," she said, stopping just in front of them. "Listen, could you... Ah!"  
Knickers saw they weren't paying much attention to her, continuing their own conversation as if she wasn't there.

It went on that way, with her being casually ignored as she tried to speak over them. Unfortunately, she didn't have that strong of a voice, and unless she screamed she would not have been heard.  
So scream she did.  
"MY FRIENDS HAVE BEEN ABDUCTED!"  
"What?!" Boxer and Socks hollered in unison.  
"Yes! My friends, they're gone!" She flailed her arms desperately.  
"You were oddly fucking complacent just a while ago, to know that your friends were kidnapped!" Said Boxer.  
"Well, they're not really my friends, and I'm not really a loud, attention-getting person, but, but, but, but that's besides the point!"  
She tried to keep up the momentum, however, as she went on, her voice lowered to her normal, quiet, stuttering tones.  
"You got no friends, do you?" Boxer leaned forward, eyebrows raised and hands in his pockets.  
"That's _beside_ the _point_!" She shrilled.  
"Ow, fuckin' shit!" She could be loud if she tried, that's for sure.  
Boxer and Socks rubbed their ears as she went on, explaining the situation as it happened.  
"On my way to fourth period with Mint and Blackberry, Mint went off to take a dump, and not two steps further did we hear him scream!" Knickers shook her head. "It was probably stupid to rush into the boys bathroom as we did, especially since we were girls, but we checked the stalls and they were all empty! And as soon as I looked away, Blackberry was gone too!"  
"Not a trace left?" Socks asked, pondering, with a finger to his chin.  
"Nuh-uh! But, then, wait..." Knickers paused for a moment in thought. "I did see these long shadows that seemed to have come out of the ventilation while running."  
She seemed sad that she ran away like a coward, but she couldn't think of what she could have done to remedy the situation by herself.  
"...Wait, the boys' bathroom?" Boxer said suddenly, as if he'd just come to a realization all over again.  
"Y-yeah...?"  
"Nah, nothing," he shook his head. "But we might as well check it out, huh, Socks?"  
"Yes."  
"W, w, w, WAIT! You're going to the boys' bathroom, after what I'd just told you?!"  
"Yeah," Boxer looked at her as if she were stupid, but then smacked himself in the forehead, remembering they were _supposed_ to be incognito. But then, what was really the point of that, really? "We're angels, dummy we're here to take out that ghost for you pitiful humans."  
He flicked her own forehead.  
"Ow! A-Angels!? Ghosts?!"  
"What did you go and say that for Rip van Trap-fucker?" Socks rolled his eyes.  
"Shut the HELL up, Socks!" Boxer stared hard at Socks as if to will his brother to burst into flame on the spot, with some laser vision he unfortunately did not have.  
"Holy cow, this is, like, so COOL!" Knickers exclaimed. "Wait till I tell Page!"  
"You will tell no one," Socks stated firmly.  
"But why not?" Knickers seemed genuinely lost. "I mean, it's kind of obvious that you're not high schoolers."  
The two of them stared at her, dumbstruck.  
"It isn't?" Socks started to rub his neck, taking a moment to feel sorry for himself. "Man, I could use a candy bar..."  
"Well, whatever-the-fuck, it's not important anymore!" Boxer shook his head. "Come on, girlie, show us where your friends disappeared so we can get crackin' on that ghost bitch's ass already!"  
"R-right!"

Hurriedly, Knickers reentered the school building, showing the two angelic brothers the way.  
Boxer enters the bathroom first when they get there. Socks was just about to when he notices that Knickers just kept standing there, stationary.  
"Aren't you coming too?" He asked. To which Knickers shook her head vigorously "no".  
"I can't go in there!" she shrilled before catching herself and lowering her voice to a strained whisper. "It's the boys bathroom."  
To this, Boxer poked his head out, stared at her and said, "That didn't stop you from goin' in the first time, did it?"  
"Well, no, b-b-b-b-b-b-but that was only because no one else was around to help Mint when he needed it!"  
Boxer raised an eyebrow in mild disbelief.  
"You've gotta be kidding me—bitch, ain't nobody in here!"  
"That's beside the point!" Knickers said for the third time, turning in the other direction, and stomping her foot once, as if to demonstrate "putting her foot down".  
"Tch, whatever!" Boxer went back inside, along with his brother, who'd found the situation amusing despite himself.

They spent nearly an hour giving the boys' bathroom a thorough inspection and found absolutely nothing. It really was as the principal herself said.  
No. Wait!  
Socks knelt down beside the urinal and found a splatter of white something. At first it repulsed him, thinking it might have been semen. Someone had gotten a little too excited earlier. But in the light it shone a peculiar, bluish, brown tint. Honestly, he couldn't place the color entirely, what's more it did not reek.  
In fact, it reminded him of... .

"Hey, what the hell are you doing over here, Socks?" Boxer said, approaching Socks from behind. "If you gotta take a piss that ain't the way to do it."  
"Shut up." Socks paused. "Hey, come look at this."  
Socks pointed out the stains left behind and Boxer grimaced.  
"Shit, I mean, I didn't think you were _that _lonely, bro."  
After recovering from the thorough beating his brother had given him for that calloused comment, Boxer asked, "What about it?"  
"Doesn't it remind you of anything?"  
"Spunk."  
"Obviously, but it has no odor, nor the same coloration or exact texture."  
"So what do you think it is, then?"  
"... Milk," Socks crossed his arms and pondered this for a while longer. "Human breast milk, given the color."  
"... How do you know what human breast milk looks like?"  
If the situation wasn't as dire as it had been, Socks might have laughed at his brother's expression.  
"That's not important—"  
"Yes it is!" Boxer seized Socks's shoulders. "Is my baby brother actually gettin' some? From MILFs even?!"  
Socks felt insulted that Boxer was expressing the same enthusiasm as a proud father would to hearing that his son actually had "game".  
Socks forcibly removed Boxer's hands and got to his feet.  
"Well we can be sure that our ghost really is here, given the clue sent from above," Socks said. "But we're still not sure where the students went. My guess is that the ghost is making a meal out of them as we speak."  
"Or drowning them in breast milk."  
"Or that... I'd hate to say that that's a real possibility. Though I can't imagine why, unless they had a lactation fetish they're exploiting on these poor innocent, high school girls... and boy."

"By the way, doesn't it seem unusually quiet to you?"  
Boxer took a while to respond, most likely imagining the scenario Socks had just brought up.  
"Huh? Oh... uh, I dunno." Boxer looked back towards the entrance to the bathroom and saw that Knickers was still standing here, occupying herself with a Gameboy. "Well yeah, Ginger ain't screamin' her ass off."  
"I meant besides that."  
"'Besides that'?"  
"It's been an hour and no one's come by to use the bathroom or anything. And we hadn't encountered anyone on our way here either."  
Come to think of it, Socks was right.  
It _had_ been an hour into the search for clues. And no one else was there to stop them from heading out into the courtyard, or question what they were doing walking this way to the bathroom. Well, it isn't strange to be on your way to the bathroom, but Knickers was right there leading the way. Likely it would have drawn SOME suspicion, even if they were supposedly new to the school.  
I mean, if it was THAT obvious we weren't high schoolers, Boxer thought.  
"They're probably just in class or somethin'." Boxer said, casually folding his arms behind his head.  
"Yes, but we didn't hear the bell ring for fourth or fifth period."  
"... Something's up." Boxer said, finally getting it.  
Boxer and Socks rushed outside to meet with Knickers, startling the poor ginger.  
"Ginger-Geek, did anybody pass by you while you were waitin' here?" Boxer asked her.  
"Uhh... No, I don't think so."  
"Shit!"  
"Why? What's wrong?"  
"It could be that the ghost knows about us," Socks suggested. "So it's working overtime. Up until now, it's only abducted the girls, this time you say that your boyfriend got snagged."  
"Y-yeah. … Wait, he's not my boyfriend!"  
Socks ignored her.  
"In the time you came running out in the courtyard and asking for our help, the ghost had probably gone and abducted the whole student body."  
"One ghost could?" Boxer asked out of curiosity.  
"I don't know, maybe." Socks shrugged. "But how else do you explain the lack of any-fucking-body here right now?"  
Sensing the severity of the current situation, Knickers took a deep breath of conviction and declared that she could help the two find the ghost if need be.  
"How?" They both said.  
"You may not realize this, but I am an expert in the occult," Knickers stated, as if it were something to be proud of. "I have a device designed specifically for tracking ghosts!"  
"You couldn't have used that earlier?" Boxer said, fixing Knickers with a look of total disbelief.  
"W-well, I hadn't thought that it could have been a ghost behind the kidnappings," Knickers lowered her head and started playing with her fingers, losing a bit of confidence. "Besides, I'm just one girl, I don't think I could do a lot on my own."  
"...Right." Boxer looked pointedly in the other direction, concentrating on absolutely nothing whatsoever.  
"We can use a device like yours," Socks stated. "If you really have something like that."  
Socks was giving her much the same incredulous look as his brother had.  
"I do!" Knickers reached for her backpack and revealed it was outfitted with some curious attachment and meter, like some sort of metal detector.  
It, in itself, was made of metal also.  
"What the hell is that thing?" Boxer and Socks said, again in perfect harmony.  
"It's my Proton Pack!" Knickers said cheerily.  
"Like in Ghostbusters?" Boxer said, sounding quite intrigued.  
"What?" Socks turned to his brother, quizzically.  
"Uh, nothing! Never mind!" Boxer's face took on an interesting shade of pink. It's been doing that a lot lately... .  
"Hee hee," Knickers seemed delighted. "It's a device that measures psychokinetic energy, the PKE Meter!"  
"But you just called it a Proton Pack, or whatever the fuck." Socks said.  
"It's what I call it when I want to be more original," she snorted, a very unattractive sound. "But seriously, this was the best birthday gift ever..."  
She cleared her throat embarrassedly and said, "Anyway, it can help, I swear it can!"  
"Well what're we waiting for? Let's finally go and kick this ghost's ass already!" Boxer pumped his fist and had Knickers lead them again.

Thanks to Knickers's fantastical ghost-tracking contraption, Boxer and Socks were able to locate their ghost, or rather, they were led to the school council president standing all by her lonesome in the gymnasium.  
"'Sup, Miss President?" Boxer said, readopting his cocky attitude.  
Looks like he was finally over "falling" into his earlier "trap".  
"You again," Strawberry turned to face the three of them. "What do you want now?"  
"Don't act so innocent, Miss Student Council President," Socks took a bold step forward. "We know of you. Well, my brother does at least. How he knows I haven't the slightest inkling. I've the mind to believe he fucked the information out of some poor girl, but that's neither here nor there."  
Socks shook his head and waved his hand derisively.  
"Why don't you reveal what you truly are?"  
"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Strawberry turned up her nose, haughtily.  
"Didn't my bro just get through tellin' you to quit playing games, skank?" Boxer barked like a dog at the end of his chain, waiting to be cut loose. "We know you're a milk-spurting ghost whore, so stop embarrassing yourself!"  
Socks and Knickers exchanged a look that went unnoticed by Boxer, as he stood staring Strawberry Milk down.  
"..." Strawberry looked this way and that, then sighed. "Very well then. Honestly I pegged you angel scum as moronic nuisances that wouldn't be able to catch on to my wondrous scheme, but you've outdone yourselves."  
Strawberry tossed her hair out of her eye, her curls bouncing complimentingly about her round face.  
"Men could not possibly grasp the complex beauty of the female's ability to lactate!"  
She held open her arms and as she did the ground began the shake underneath them. The stands of the gymnasium, and the floor itself began to yield to some monstrosity lying beneath that slowly revealed itself onto Knickers and the angelic brothers.

They heard the moaning and howling agony of the students who went missing prior, and the obscene suction and pulse of fat pumps and tubes attached to the girls' bare chests, milking them of all they had to offer, or else coaxing them to give up their white treasure. All the while, the boys' nipples were twisted and poked incessantly by tubes with nasty-looking hooks and needles.  
They were all strapped into harnesses and suspended in mid-air as the basin the pumps were connected to rose into view, dominating the whole center of the gym. It all looked like something from some elaborate BDSM porno.  
Upon taking in every amount of detail of this atrocity, Boxer doubled over and retched.  
"Brother...!" Socks recoiled, more concern for the condition of his expensive shoes than for his brother's well-being.  
"What the hell is this ghost bitch's problem!?" Boxer heaved.  
"That's what I want to know..." Boxer, Socks and Knickers turned back to the entrance of the gymnasium to see a high school boy in pretty bad shape.  
"Nail...?" Socks was genuinely shocked.  
Shocked that Nail was here, and shocked he remembered the boy's name.  
"Vanilla! Almond!" Nail shouted, his attention elsewhere.  
Looking again, Socks recognized Vanilla, but he couldn't be sure who Almond was.  
Vanilla's face was contorted in contempt and agony, and he writhed within his confines. His body had received injury elsewhere it seemed, he must have put up one hell of a fight.  
"Um, HEL-LO!" said Strawberry Milk. "I'm still here, you know."  
Strawberry Milk leaped into the air, and in a gruesome display, shed her outer, human appearance, ripping false skin from her. In that, she revealed her true, otherworldly form.  
Though she didn't look that much different from her human form overall, it was now clear to anyone who looked at her that she was anything but.

"As you can see, I've established this stupendous milk factory for myself!" She spread her arms wide, gesturing to the disgusting machinery and the poor people subjected to its design as she did. "Quite the lovely set-up don't you agree?"  
"I'd have to _disagree_ with you," said Socks.  
"And I'd have to tear you a new asshole for what you did to my friends!" Nail shouted, charging recklessly towards the ghostly woman.  
Predictably, he was knocked back by a wayward, flailing tube that dripped globs of white and brown breast milk from its end.  
"You know that kind of looks like..." Boxer began, pointing to it.  
"Don't say it!" Socks said, smacking his brother upside the head.  
Knickers only stood there staring, mouth wide open in astonishment.  
"Ginger, it might be a good idea to stay away, unless you want to end up like Nail." Socks said, gesturing to Nail who now lay sprawled underneath sports equipment, groaning in pain.  
"R-right," Knickers ran as fast as her legs could carry her, well away to a safer spot.  
"You ready to go wild, big brother?" Socks asked, smirking sidelong at him.  
"You bet your ass I am!"

Boxer and Socks stood beside each other, summoning a platform and light-show from seemingly out of no where. Beside both of them were long poles that extended from the middle of the platform to the high ceiling of the gymnasium.  
They donned the holy, white and gold garb of the Celestials: Clothes made of fine silk and linen, bedazzled with red and gold jewels for Boxer, and blue and silver for Socks. And for a brief second they flashed their ethereal halo and wings to further signify their status and heritage.  
They took to the poles immediately after, performing a short, yet sensual strip tease for their onlookers, stunning the ghost even as they removed their most holy garments while reciting their prayer and oath:  
"O pitiful shadow lost in darkness,  
O evil spirit born of those drifting through Heaven and Earth,  
May the thunderous power from the garments of these Holy, masculine studs,  
Strike down upon you with great vengeance and fury,  
Shattering your loathsome impurity and returning from whence you came!"  
Boxer and Socks transformed said garments into the weapons for which to do battle while shouting, "Repent, Motherfucker!"

Boxer begins with a head-on attack, launching himself into the air, using the stage platform as leverage before it disappeared completely. He met with Strawberry Milk in mid-air, who shielded herself from his assault with the detached and drooling tubes of her evil contraption.  
Socks remained grounded and went to work on freeing Strawberry Milk's victims with the longsword his sock had morphed into, hacking and slashing at the pumps and harness, slicing clean through them.  
"Ah! Why would you destroy what I've worked so hard to achieve, you evil, vile men!" Strawberry wailed furiously.  
"So ya got man problems, boo-hoo!" Boxer spat in her face, pistol whipping the flailing and undulating tubes with the handgun his boxer shorts had morphed into. "All you needed was a good lay, anyone could see that!"  
"I would not willing get within ten feet of a disgusting male creature, look there!" Strawberry Milk gestured quickly to a boy still secured in his harness.  
"What the—?" Boxer made the fatal error of halting his assault, as he recognized the boy there.  
"THAT is where a man belongs!" said Strawberry. "Why should a lady suffer after giving birth to the child the man has saddled her with? Nevertheless, she cares and nurtures for her newborn by providing them with her nutritious boon! Her milk! While I will admit that man are able to give, they're not so willing, and for that, they should be punished!"  
Strawberry lashed out at Boxer, sending him hurdling back down to earth, and crashing and causing an indent in the once clean and polished gymnasium floor. From there he heard Knickers squeal, and this was surely a mistake made on her part, for then Boxer could see a snake-like tube threatening to take her from behind.  
"Fuck!" Boxer shot at it without a second thought, scaring the shit out of Knickers in the process, earning himself another earsplitting shriek. "Shut the hell up and get out of here, Ginger!"  
"You will never understand what a woman goes through! The pain of carrying and labor!" Strawberry continued to preach obnoxiously. "And yet we still have room to care and provide for our offspring!"  
"I ain't come here to be lectured on your feminist viewpoint, bitch!" Boxer whipped his gun out on her again, and fired several shots, which were again blocked or deflected by metal and rubbery tubes and rods. "Save it for someone who gives a damn!"  
"You men are all alike!"  
"So says the one that kidnaps unsuspecting boys AND girls, and then uses them for her own selfish goals!" Said a familiar voice.  
"Who was that?!" Strawberry growled.  
Strawberry and Boxer both turned to find Nail with Vanilla, and supposedly Almond, and the rest of the boys and girls Socks had freed in the time Strawberry was focused on Boxer.  
"Some of these boys here just want to live honest lives, and you want to screw that up and torture them just because they have dicks!" Nail shouted, cradling Vanilla in his arms, who lay unconscious.  
"Be quiet! It's for how they treat other women that—!"  
"Can you say that for every single one of them? Vanilla just wanted to find his little cousin, who you took away from him!"  
"It was probably better that I did, no good would have come from being around that stuck-up—!"  
"Would you two be your asses QUIET!?" shouted a very pissed off Socks, who revealed himself to have sneaked up behind Strawberry while she was arguing with Nail about who was right and who was wrong.  
He swung back his longsword and cut through the ghost woman's back. Strawberry Milk gave a cry and joined Boxer down on the gym floor, wriggling in pain.  
"I don't care about a ghost's sexist views on men, I care about chocolate and Oreo cookies!" Socks declared, standing above Strawberry now. "And you ruined dunking Oreo cookies into my breakfast milk, because you've distributed these girls' breast milk to the supermarkets!"  
"...Wait, what?!" That came from not only Boxer, but a few of Strawberry's victims as well.  
"I noticed how similar the milk we bought only yesterday was in coloration to the puddle in the boys' bathroom. After you revealed your 'master scheme,' things started to click," Socks pointed the tip of his sword at Strawberry. "Get your lazy ass off the floor, Boxer, and help me put an end to this Oreo-cookies-and-milk menace!"  
"I... don't know what the hell's goin' on, but I'm game for takin' out this ghost-ho!"  
"N, no! Wait! Stop!" Strawberry begged as Boxer got up and approached her with a maniac look in his eye. "Please!"  
"It's waaaaaay too late to beg for mercy now!"  
With another cut through, and a couple bullets to the head, the ghost was vanquished, exploding in a grandiose display.

Only moments later, the sound and echo of the church bells rang throughout Daten, and two pretty coins dropped at the angels' feet.  
"What? Only two? After all the damage and trauma she's likely caused!?" Socks said, outraged.  
"Well at least we can say this day wasn't boring."  
Boxer took several good steps back when Socks glared menacingly at him.  
"Milk makes up 99.9% of the world's best sweets by being a very important ingredient in making them! Now it's all ruined, because I'm forever going to fret over whether or not this cake, or this brownie, or this cookie was made with high school breast milk!"  
"Ah, yeah, that sucks pretty hard on donkey balls right there..." Boxer chuckled nervously, scratching at his face.  
"Excuse me while I wallow in self-pity..." Socks dragged his feet toward the exit, but was stopped just short by the students of Daten High.  
"Socks..." It was Nail and a partly conscious Vanilla.  
"What is it?" Socks crossed his arms, not knowing what they could want, since they'd already been rescued.  
"Thank you."  
Socks seemed taken aback, as this was the first time he'd been genuinely thanked by someone for... Anything, really.  
"Erm..."  
"Really, thank you," said Vanilla. "Thanks to you, Mocha's all right."  
"And Almond." Nail added.  
"I guess you'll be leaving then."  
"Yes, well... Our goal was to defeat the ghost all along. There's no reason for me or my brother to stay any longer," though when Socks said it aloud, he almost felt sorry for it.  
"Right." Nail didn't seem happy, nor sad about this either way.  
"I'd like to introduce you to my cousin, if that's all right? Before you go..." Vanilla seemed prepared to accept a "no" regardless.  
"... I guess there's no harm in that."  
"Um..." came Knickers's semi-frightened voice, as she peeked back into the gymnasium. "Is it safe now?"  
Nail and Vanilla glanced back over at her.  
"Yeah," Nail said.  
"Oh, holy crap!" Knickers exclaimed excitedly, rushing back into the gym and drinking in every amount of detail.  
She approached Boxer and started to stutter, which grated on the blond angel's nerves.  
"Spit it out!" He said, irritably.  
"Oh my God, you guys are honest to God ANGELS! Really real ANGELS!"  
"Yeah, scream it to the world." Boxer rolled his eyes.  
"Oh, I will! This is _so_ cool!"  
"Looks like he has a fan..." Vanilla stated happily, though weakly.  
"Apparently," Socks shook his head, but allowed himself a smile.  
Socks was afraid, though.  
If he got any further acquainted with these humans, would he start to like it here? At the school? Would he want to stay?  
"Come on," said Vanilla. "She's over here. Nail, could you help me? My leg's not feeling too good."  
"Yeah, sure." Nail began carrying Vanilla over to where Mocha supposedly was, back to the crowd of recovering—and some weeping—students.

Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all if Socks stayed.  
He glanced over at Boxer, who was still trying to shake Knickers off, while slyly flirting with the other girls in the group.

"He won't ever change..."

To be continued...


	4. So What Now?

**4**

It just so happened that the "event" former student council president, Strawberry Milk, mentioned earlier was in reference to a far grander scheme: In which she would have branched out to establish more milk "farms" and have taken over practically all of Daten's citizens.  
"Then the world, no doubt." Socks said musing.  
"Of course," Vanilla said, laughing, then wincing from the pain that caused him.  
The sinister ghost-made machine did not disappear right away—as Socks suspected it should have done—after defeating Strawberry Milk. Once more, as they inspected it, it turned out that the machine was a lot bigger as a whole, with the means of mobility.  
Ultimately, it would have to be removed from the school premises, which in itself would have been a painstakingly long project for even two bona fide angelic brothers to do, let alone a team of professionals.  
And if they did call in a professional clean-up crew, there's no doubt that someone would try and report it to the masses, garnering unnecessary attention, and likely cause the school to shut down.

As Boxer occupied himself with pleasing four girls at once, Socks contemplated these recent turns of events. Since it had been their first ghost, he couldn't have possibly expected anything as absurd as this.  
The plan was to find and eradicate the ghost as soon as possible, which, in theory, shouldn't have taken more than the whole damn day. Inexperienced though they were, they were still competent fighters. And sure enough, they took Strawberry out with little difficulty.  
But it was her plotting, and the care she took in setting up such an advanced operation that would have been all the more large in scale had Socks and Boxer not intervened. Their intervention caused Strawberry to get anxious and she made the fatal error of trying to hurry her project.  
Socks could have only imagined how bad it could have gotten... .

To make matters even worse, Socks had already made plans in advance to update his blog, in which he cataloged the confectioneries that tickled and satisfied his sweet tooth the most. That ranged from simple candy bars, to masterful confectionery artwork of even foreign origin.  
Decorative, and built meticulously from skilled hands, to please the eyes as well as the taste buds... Those delicious, sugary objects of fantasy, made to tingle the tongues of royalty!  
"You all right there, Socks? You're drooling." Nail nudged him in the side.  
"Huh? What? Yes. Yes, of course!" Socks lowered his head and smiled sheepishly. "I was, well, never mind. Anyway, it's probably best if we call the authorities on this one. What happened to the staff while this was going on?"  
"Drenched in breast milk and passed out." Nail said with a surprisingly straight-face.  
"That's unfortunate," Socks said, forcing himself to sound the slightest bit sorry. "Urn foresaw it, they'll have to close down the school while they get this beast out of here."  
Socks gestured to the basin and its flaccid tubes with his thumb.

"Your buddy seems to be enjoying himself," Vanilla groaned, willing himself to ignore the moans and musk of sex in the background.  
"Excuse him, he was born butt first as an infant."  
"I don't like what he's doing," Vanilla stated with a subtle twitch of his eye. "And if he so much as _looks _at Mocha—! Well he ought to be glad I can't walk straight right now."  
"You really do seem to care for your cousin," Socks glanced at her as she slept beside them.  
She only vaguely resembled her cousin, with shaggy, dusty hair, and pale skin. Though her eyes were closed now, Socks saw that she had cataracts in her eyes, suggesting that she was blind.  
"Yeah I guess," Vanilla allowed himself something of a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "She can get along well by herself, she's very resourceful, but sometimes... I dunno, I guess I worry."  
Socks suspected that there may have been a little bit more to that story, but decided not to pry.  
"What about you and Almond, Nail?" Socks couldn't help but grin teasingly, and wider when he saw Nail blush.  
Almond was a porky boy, with chestnut-brown hair, and the sweetest smile and dimples Socks had ever seen. Almond was especially grateful for Boxer and Socks's help, and blushed at the concern Nail had shown for him throughout the ordeal.  
"Ye—ah, we were friends since Kindergarten," Nail rubbed his arm. "That's it!"  
That was so obviously not just it, but Socks left him alone out of courtesy.

The students that felt well enough went on their way, out of the gymnasium, to either get their cellphones and call their parents, or rouse the sleeping faculty.  
Vanilla was left slouching on the stands, sighing.  
Nail went around tending to the others that weren't in fit condition to move just yet.  
Knickers saw to Mint, Blackberry, and the aforementioned Page. The concern she expressed for them seemed as a surprise to them, but was appreciated.  
Boxer was taking a break from his earlier rutting, but he seemed tense and uneasy, and Socks saw why he was when he spotted Cocoa kneeling not too far away from him. Socks couldn't help but laugh, but he chose to sit beside Vanilla instead.  
"Earlier you said you couldn't bring yourself to care about Mocha," he said. "Why did you lie like that?"  
"...I wasn't lying." Vanilla closed his eyes, breathing deeply.  
"But it was clear you did care for her. I don't understand."  
He really didn't, and he felt like a fool for it.  
He didn't like that feeling at all.  
"When I heard that she was gone I didn't feel one way or the other about it," Vanilla sat himself up as best he could. "I thought that I should have, so I tried making myself care. Frankly I don't understand how I could not. I really do want to care—I mean we're _family_!_—_and so I figured if I said it enough times, to myself and others, I'd convince myself that it was for real."  
"You're trying to convince yourself that you care for your family?"  
"...Basically," Vanilla turned to look at Socks. "Listen, I don't want you to think I'm strange! Mocha and I only see each other at school, and she's in a different grade than I am. So we don't even see much of each other, even when we can. There are times where I even forget she exists, and I have to be reminded she does."  
"I have no idea how that feels, seeing as how Boxer and I live and are constantly together; we always have been." Socks didn't seem too happy about that fact.  
But what if it wasn't like that? Socks couldn't help but wonder.  
"I envy you," Vanilla said. "I was born an only child, and my family is rather estranged. I only know about more distant relatives because I've been told about them. My parents showed me the pictures, but I can't match names to faces, let alone remember where they stand on the family tree. They're... nothing to me."

"You probably don't give a damn," Vanilla cut across Socks as the latter opened his mouth to protest. "It's all right, I'm not asking you to. I just... wanted to tell someone."  
"You haven't told any of your friends?"  
"No. If I had, well, I'd risk losing them, right?"  
"I don't know," Socks stared out over the crowd. "They all seem pretty committed to each other."  
Vanilla followed Socks's gaze.  
He saw some of those he knew he cared dearly for; those he didn't even know, and those he hated, and those that were hated by others.  
And yet, here they all were, tending to each other's wounds and voicing their concerns.  
"...Maybe."  
Socks could only see half of what Vanilla was seeing, and he felt sorry for it... .

...

"Why didn't ya'll call and tell me it was this damned serious!" Suspender yelled, spraying spittle as she did on the boys faces. "And where the hell is Mink!? I had to run all the way out here in high heels, down that motherfuckin' slope!"  
"Our bad," Boxer and Socks said in unison, lamely.  
"Is that your mom?" Knickers asked, peeking out from behind Boxer.  
Boxer and Socks glanced this way or that, forcing smiles and thinking that she (Suspender) might as well have been their mother.  
"...What a lovely little lady," Suspender's demeanor made a 180 flip, and changed from Strong Independent Woman, to Kind, Caring Mammy.  
It tended to do so.  
"Oh, Boxer what's her name?"  
"What're you askin' me for?"  
"It's you she's taking refuge under; I just assumed ya'll were intimate. Like every other woman you come across in your peripherals."  
"It's, uh, um..." Boxer scratched his head, as if he'd totally forgotten.  
"Knickers."  
"Yeah, that's it."  
"Hello, Knickers. My name is Suspender, I'm the priestess of Daten church. Feel free to drop by sometime and visit." Suspender winked, causing Knickers to shiver.  
"Boys!" Suspender hollered at the top of her lungs, making nearly everyone within earshot wince. "We're goin' home. Find wherever the hell Mink is and pick me up out front!"  
With that, Suspender took her leave of the gymnasium.  
"I say we grab Mink and leave without her." Boxer murmured.  
"I'd be inclined to agree with you, but she's just going to find us and leave our asses sore for it." Socks sighed.  
"Um..." Knickers reached out to touch Boxer's shoulder.  
"What?"  
"Er, never mind." She turned the opposite direction, shrugging her Proton Backpack up higher on her shoulders and beginning to walk toward the exit.  
"... Ginger," Socks said suddenly. "Are you walking home?"  
"Huh?" Knickers turned back to face him. "Yeah, I don't live too far from the school, so it's okay."  
"We'll give you a ride." Socks stated matter-of-fact.  
"Who the hell is 'we'?" Boxers demanded in open protest.  
"We as in me and you shit-for-brains."  
"I object!"  
"You think I'm going to heed any of your objections when you ignore mine?" Socks snorted. "Do it, or I'll let word spread of your Trap-Humping ways."  
Having been reminded of that, Boxers was readily more compliant.

Boxer drove Knickers part-way to her apartment. She told them that she'd rather walk the rest of the way, partially out of embarrassment. She thanked the boys and Suspender for giving her a ride and left.  
Boxer swerved and raced back up Celetubby Hill, wanting nothing more than to be home, and sleep.  
It had been a long day, and a lot has happened. He felt he deserved the rest.

Once Boxer had gotten in bed, it seemed that not even a howler monkey could wake him up.  
He slept well into the afternoon the next day, and when he awoke, things were unusually quiet.  
Boxer climbed down the steps, one at a time. He hadn't any plans for the day, and he was just now waking up anyway. The only reason he got out of bed now was because of his bladder, and then his stomach. Now that he was awake he couldn't see himself going back to bed now.  
He had his breakfast and went to the front room to watch TV, finding that Socks was already there.  
To Boxer's surprise, Socks was eating parfait while surfing the web on his laptop.  
"Aren't you afraid that that was made with human breast milk or somethin'?" Boxer asked, taking a seat beside his brother, finding the remote and flipping through the channels idly.  
"I've come to realize that it isn't really that big of a deal, after all, human breast milk was intended for humans anyway," Socks said airily. "It's more a wonder why they rely on cattle, but it really makes no difference. I see neither enhancing the taste, and it already tastes damn (he paused to take a bite to further emphasize his point) good!"  
"That's sick, man," Boxer face contorted to that of disgust.  
"Of course, I always have the option of ordering from Heaven, but unfortunately, Suspender won't let me spend the very little coin we have for that." Socks seemed distraught about this, because in all honesty, the sweets from Heaven were unmatched in flavor and sweetness.  
But Suspender would no doubt give him another two-hour-long lecture on wise spending habits if he tried.  
"So what're you doin' now?"  
Boxer leaned in to see the screen.  
"Aren't you a nosy bastard today?" Socks snorted. "I just finished updating my blog; I'm in Skype chat with Vanilla."  
"You chat?" Boxer raised an eyebrow.  
"I do now."  
"Right..."  
Boxer saw it perfectly natural to read the chat log, as Socks took another spoonful of his parfait.  
He saw that Vanilla had invited one or two other friends during the chat session, but they've left now. They weren't talking about anything important, aside from recent events that caused the school to close until further notice.  
Then Boxer saw that Cocoa had been mentioned.  
"Are you finished digging in other people's business, asshole?" Socks said in a casual tone.  
"Yeah," he leaned back and directed his attention back to the TV.  
"I don't suppose you keep track of the whores you fuck?" Socks asked at length.  
"... A few," Boxer admitted. "They were the really good ones."  
"I'm surprised you're capable of gauging any quality in the affair," Socks turned up his nose. "I always thought that if it simply had a vagina, it was vulnerable."  
"Goddammit, I have standards!"  
Boxer's face turned brilliant red as Socks laughed boisterously, to the point where there were tears in his eyes.  
"Really, brother you expect me to believe that tripe?"  
"Why the hell did you ask anyway?"  
"I was curious. Because it seems to me that you find it peculiar that I'm chatting with Vanilla."  
"Well yeah, it is! Besides, I'm the older brother. I gotta look out for you, and I can be all up in your business if I want to. It's practically mine anyway."  
"Who told you nonsense like that? Obviously you couldn't have thought of it on your own. But then, what I want to know is why you're all of a sudden committing to such a thing. Heaven knows you never cared beforehand."  
Socks inclined his head at a peculiar angle as he was talking, then paused. Boxer raised a questioning eyebrow at him, until he righted himself and calmly reached to tuck wayward strands of his hair back, out of his way.  
"...You really ought-a get that sorted," Boxer turned up his nose in disgust. He really wanted to make a comeback to what Socks had just said, but he couldn't think of one. So the rule was to change the subject, clearly! "Don't come crying to me when your bitch-ass gets mistaken for a girl by some sweaty-ass loser tryin' to booty-rape you."  
Chuck sauntered into the living room at that moment, his attention is immediately drawn to Socks's half-finished parfait treat. He lunges himself forward, tongue stretched and licking. Just as he was about to reach his prize, his advance is grind to a halt by a spoon, plunged straight into his cranium and grey matter.  
"CHUCK!" He cried in what could only be purest agony.  
Socks chose to ignore him, turning and typing, apparently arranging a get-together with Vanilla and his friends.  
"Finally getting out more?" Boxer said and grinned.  
"I've gone out many times."  
"Really now? What do you do when you go out?"  
"None of your sticky beeswax!" Socks, in a fit, threw his spoon at Boxer's head to sort him out.  
"Ow! Ew! Goddammit!"

In all honesty, Boxer was surprised, and perhaps even a little happy that his anti-social brother was finally making friends.  
Although Socks readily denies any claim that he was anti-social, Boxer really couldn't see Socks associating himself with anyone he didn't arrogantly deem worthy of his time. He had that sort of superiority complex that was so damned annoying.  
Truth be told they both had some degree of that complex.  
Boxer couldn't help glancing at the computer screen whenever he thought Socks wasn't looking. With his parfait finished, he remained tapping away at the keys. It had a sort of ambient melody to it that made Boxer ease up and relax, coupled with the muted audio from the TV.  
However, he shortly forgot to be sneaky about it, forcing Socks to stop typing and stare—_glare—_at his brother intently.  
"AH!" Boxer fell out of his seat upon noticing.  
"Boxer, just go. Leave!"  
"Ah, come on, I—"  
"GO!"  
"Fine! I'm not interested in whatever the hell you're doin' anyway."  
Boxer went away with his hands in his pockets.

Still wondering about his brother's social life. Boxer figured the day could not have gone by any slower.  
With no voice from on high and the school closed down, there really wasn't much to do. Boxer figured he could go out and see more of the town, so that evening, Boxer decided that he would take a leisurely stroll. Just to clear his head.  
Perhaps he'd go and hit his favorite bar downtown.  
Despite how sleazy the people and environment were around there, he was still capable of finding decent beer and entertainment, so he liked going there. And the people knew and respected him around there.  
It was a nice reprieve from the nagging and disdain he got back home.

"Hello, Boxer," said a paralyzingly deep voice, not too long after Boxer began his walk.  
"Panther..." Boxer said, turning to face this so-called "Panther".  
Panther was a hulking man, commanding authority in gaping strides, body burly and held upright.  
Even though Boxer was an angel, he still felt a twinge intimidated by this man in particular.

Boxer met Panther during a brawl some few days ago.  
Some cocky punk-ass wimp figured he could take Boxer in a fight, and readily lost. The rookie said something that really grated on Boxer's nerves, and so Boxer was rather ruthless. Even when it was clear he was the victor, he kept at it, until a much larger man, Panther, broke him away from the bruised little wimp and chastised him.  
From then on, Boxer was very distrusting of, and didn't quite like Panther. But he admitted he had some sort of respect for the man.  
Judging by his dress, he got around, and was wealthy. Although, it was odd to see such pristine visage in the slums.  
It was such a sharp contrast, it was almost painful to the eyes.

"I hear news about what happened at Daten high school." Panther said.  
"Oh yeah? Word gets around quick, then."  
"Indeed. I also hear that you were in the thick of the mess that went on there, too."  
"Er..." Well it was true, Boxer thought, rubbing his neck. "Yeah. I figured I'd help out some kids in need, you know?"  
"You ain't that considerate, boy." Panther chuckled darkly. "But it's none of my business, really. Though I can't help but wonder, all things considered."  
"Do you really want to know why?" If he didn't, it was safe to assume that the news omitted the part about Boxer and Socks being angels. That, or they said it, and the readers brushed it off as horse shit.  
Despite the ghost activity, there were still many skeptics and those without an ounce of faith.  
Truth be told, after the incident, Boxer felt a little stronger after it. Maybe it was because of those kids' gratitude and renewed faith in divine and celestial beings?  
"You don't have to tell me. But what say I buy you a drink? I'd think you were deserving of some reward, after doing the parents of those missing kids a favor."  
"That's very generous, Panther." Boxer took a moment to think about it. "Yeah, sure. I'm always up for free booze."  
Together they entered the bar, and Panther bought Boxer several glasses full.  
By the fifth, Boxer felt a bit of a buzz, which loosened his lips a tad.  
"I always wondered why you hang around here in this dump, Panther."  
"Mm."  
"I mean, it's _so _obvious you're better than this. You probably think you're on a higher pedestal than these fuckers getting themselves smashed." Boxer gestured around the bar to its patrons.  
Quite a few gazed over their way, but aside from a few mean looks and murmurs, they did nothing.  
"Maybe." Panther threw back his beer, taking several gulps.  
Boxer might not have known much about him, but he knew that Panther could certainly hold his liquor. Seeing him made Boxer want to compete, so he took another swig.  
"Things are more interesting here, but then, I haven't seen much of the city yet." Boxer belched unabashedly. "Only just recently am I getting work," he shook his head. "I didn't even get a chance to really show that bitch what I could do."  
"Hmm." It was clear that Panther wasn't 100% on board, but he allowed Boxer to keep running his mouth.  
"I mean, goddamn! Well whatever. I'm just a little outta practice, that's all. I'll do better next time."  
Panther, figuring that Boxer was just having trouble in bed, offered his hand.  
"If that's it, I could give you a few pointers."  
"Huh?" Boxer hiccuped his confusion. A few more glasses, and his face was flushed a cute red that caused Panther to smirk. "I don't need your help, man," it was weird for him to even be offering. "Like I said, it'll be different the next time. I'll really let loose, just you wait!"  
Boxer's words were beginning to slur, and Panther couldn't help but chuckle.  
"You're sure about that?"  
"You don't believe me?" Boxer swayed slightly in his seat.  
What was going on? The man seemed totally composed. Just how much beer could he handle?  
Not only that, he seemed to be made of money. Boxer couldn't quite count the number of glasses he had by now.  
It was a lot, surely.  
Furthermore, how in the world could Panther help fight against ghosts? Boxer thought.  
Admittedly, that Ginger-Geek was capable of finding that milk-obsessed ghost in the first place, with her freaky Ghostbusting contraption.  
And she was but a little high school girl. Boxer found himself believing—for lack of better judgment and drunkenness—that Panther could, possibly, aid him in his holy duties.  
In fact, he was all the more willing to believe it, given the look of this beast.  
"Oh, I believe you. But you can always do better than better, you know?" Panther steadied Boxer with a hand to the blond's shoulder, and leaned in. "I'm feeling generous today. So how about it? I can bring more excitement in your life."  
"..." Boxer looked as if he was considering it.  
He wasn't in his right mind. Far from it.  
"OK, I guess. No big deal." He said.  
"Excellent."

Panther paid for the expense in booze, and escorted Boxer out from the bar to who-knew-where?


	5. A More Outgoing Socks Anarchy?

**5**

_Rumors about Panther circulated around downtown Daten, some good some bad.  
Mostly bad.  
The worst—that actually made the most sense—was that he was in league with, or more likely, the leader of a criminal syndicate. Why else would someone dressed in leathers and furs be slinking around in some sleazy neighborhood, if not for making shady business transactions?  
Boxer heard some of these rumors and thought nothing of them—rather he didn't understand the severity of them. Even if he could, he'd probably still think nothing of it. After all, he was a trained holy warrior, and could hold his own in a fist-fight, as he's proven time and time again.  
And what would the mafia want with him?  
He hasn't done anything for or against them, and neither has his brother... ._

Quite contrary to his elder brother's beliefs, Socks acquainted himself in and around Daten city.  
He never saw fit to tell Boxer about his relations—and why should he? What difference would it have made, truly? It wasn't his business, no matter what he said. However, there was legitimate reason for Boxer to believe that Socks was alone. The man really was quite anti-social, no matter how many times he denounced those claims. The fact remained that he didn't like dealing with anyone any longer than he had to. Although now, that's different.  
Before, he didn't have friends, per say. In the regard that he went out, and conversed in good nature and spirit with. Why would he need that?  
Really, _need _that?

In Heaven, Socks devoted his whole childhood to learning; he trained day in and day out with little rest. Even if he was finally resting his body, he would instead exercise his mind, until sleep crept upon, and stole him from his books.  
Drawn to swordplay, he spent hours training with his instructor, Archangel Alabaster.  
A man of whom Socks respected. Alabaster certainly lived up to his name, in that everything of his visage was pure and white. Much more handsome than Socks, than Boxer. So beautiful, both human men and women would utterly melt upon laying eyes on him.  
Socks once sought to exceed Alabaster and claim the title of archangel, himself... .  
More specifically, Socks sought "Perfection". Even though the humans regarded the Celestials as perfect beings already; but then, there was always going to be something better in the eyes of everyone.  
Really, to Socks, there was only one perfect being—besides the Absolute, that being God—and that perfect being was his father.

So in striving to achieve his goals, back then, he hadn't the time, nor the need (as he saw it) to build relationships with others. Boxer intruded upon his space, and was resolute—of his own accord. Socks tolerated his brother in much the same instance now. This was one of the many things he found he had no control over.  
Furthermore, it was so that Socks fell into depravity shortly after his brother had:  
Boxer looked down upon Earth and saw a human woman with blazing red hair, and gorgeous emerald-green eyes, and he lay with her. Once he had, he promptly became addicted to the pleasures sex had brought him. At the same time Socks treated his tongue to both earthly and Heavenly confections, and was then on obsessed with sweet flavor, and soft, fluffy, crunchy textures. Indulging themselves in these was what got them thrown out of Heaven, and Socks earned Alabaster's scorn.  
Of course, Socks had all but forgotten what he was striving for before then, too consumed in his own pleasures to care. His potential position as an archangel was forever lost to him. But following that, he became more introverted.  
That was, until he actually interacted with the students at Daten High.

Interestingly, Vanilla had much the same appearance as Alabaster—albeit dumbed down to a significant degree. The immediate difference were their eyes. Where Alabaster's was like that of crystal-ice, Vanilla had eyes of green.  
But it wasn't just Vanilla that Socks became fond of. Socks also took note of Nail and his valor; and more, he caught a glimpse at just how willing these kids were to go far for each other. The idea of spending time with, and getting to know these people really didn't bother Socks at all. So, he went ahead and agreed to hang out with Vanilla and his friends that evening. It might just be lingering gratitude for now, but maybe a true friendship could develop?  
Socks glanced down at Chuck, who was now sitting, surprisingly quietly, in his lap, completely devoid of injury; he was a fast healer.  
"Chuck..." Chuck gazed up at Socks in question.  
"...You can come with me." Socks said without realizing.  
"Chuck?"  
What possessed Socks to say such a thing? Well, maybe he really was in that good of a mood today, now that Boxer had left him alone.  
"I'm going out tonight... with friends," Socks hesitated to add. "You ought to get out too, Chuck, right? Exercise or something... Look, I'm being nice, you can come or you can stay!"  
"Chuck, chuck, chuck." Chuck slobbered and bounced.  
I guess that's a "yes," Socks thought, allowing himself a smirk.  
Socks grabbed Bones, who had been sitting quietly beside him, and got up with Chuck in his other hand.

As Socks hooked the leash to Chuck's collar, Suspender's voice sounded and echoed throughout the church.  
"Uh-oh," Socks could only assume the worst.  
Of course, the only thing he could think of that would send Suspender in a rage this time, if not earlier, just yesterday, was the demand of her money to pay in expense to school property damage. If not, well, Socks didn't want to stick around and find out! "Come on, Chuck, we're leaving!"

Socks couldn't be sure what to expect upon exiting the church, and driving up to the mall to meet with Vanilla.  
He parked Mink in the lot and found Vanilla and two others posted at the entrance, awaiting his arrival. When he did he felt a stab and hesitated.  
He knew there would be others, so why was he suddenly nervous? What reason could Socks Anarchy have for being _nervous_!? He sighed and clutched at the cat doll in his arm, and squeezed around Chuck's leash with his other hand. Chuck drooled and his tail wagged incessantly. He followed Socks's lead once the angel began walking again.  
As Socks drew closer, he saw that Vanilla was in possession of, and leaning heavily upon a cane.  
"Is that leg broken?" Socks said automatically, before noting the absence of a cast or brace.  
"Not likely," Vanilla shook his head and smiled. "It hurts like hell, but it's definitely not broken."  
"How can you be sure?"  
"I've had broken limbs before, but Ma insisted I should have this cane until she can schedule an appointment with a doctor."  
"Should you really be out and about then? What if you damage it further?"  
"You're starting to sound like her," Socks became red at that, and turned his head. "I'll be fine."  
"Hey, Socks, remember me?" Said a young, honey-blond boy.  
Hardly, Socks thought.  
"Cotton, isn't it?"  
The boy brightened at this.  
"Yep!" Cotton turned to face the girl that stood beside him.  
"I'm sorry, I never quite got your name," Socks said.  
Beside Cotton stood a familiar face from homeroom. Though they exchanged very few pleasantries, Socks remembered she was supposedly part of the student council, while Strawberry Milk was president.  
"It's Candy. I'm Cotton's big sister," she said, with slight emphasis placed on "big".  
Chuck strained at the end of his leash, nipping at Candy's heels, causing the poor girl to yelp and seek shelter under her brother.  
"I apologize for his behavior, he's brain damaged," Socks said, nonchalant.  
"I see. I never pegged you as a dog person," Vanilla replied, matching Socks's emotionless tone and expression.  
"I'm not. Boxer is, although, I don't think Chuck was what he had in mind... completely." Socks looked on as Chuck relieved himself on the side of the building.  
"Let's hurry inside," Vanilla said, turning to enter with a lean and a limp. "Nail and Almond should be waiting at Mahogany's Pizzeria."

Socks rarely ever ate a variety of food, in favor of candy and pastries, but he did not object to eat anything else. Only, he just couldn't get much of the same level of enjoyment from other foods. So Socks went into Mahogany's Pizzeria without complaint. Nail and Almond were already seated at a booth in the back, they seemed like they were having a lot of fun, talking and laughing at each other's stories and jokes. Socks paused in his step without knowing, watching them.  
"Socks?" Candy nudged at him.  
"Huh? Oh." Socks shook himself, strengthening his resolve.  
He would be joining these two soon. He would be part of a group, be seen with a group, at a Pizzeria in the mall no less. Could he really go through with this? Well, it would seem rude to back out now, and a gentleman always stays committed. Socks followed Vanilla, Cotton and Candy in long strides, practically going past them.  
Vanilla slipped into the booth beside Nail, swearing when he bumped his bad leg in doing so, propping his cane up and off to the side.  
"You all right there, Vanilla?" Nail sniggered.  
"Go to hell." Vanilla straightened himself up as he rolled his eyes.  
"'Scuse me for having a heart." Nail made an exaggerated gesture and chuckled, along with Cotton and Candy.  
"Oh, sure, laugh at my pain."  
Socks felt a little more comfortable to sit down with the rest. Chuck contented himself to jump back into Socks's lap, in response, Socks hoarded the napkins.  
They ordered a large pepperoni pizza in which they all agreed upon. Socks wasn't expecting too much from this meal, but something about Mahogany's pizza made it taste great.  
Not as great as fondue, or tripe, but enjoyable.  
"As Nail might have said before, we really don't know too much about you, Socks," Vanilla suddenly said at length.  
"—or your brother for that matter." Candy added.  
"Still pinning for him, are you?" Socks said in between a bite of pizza, to this, Candy became redder. "Again, I apologize. There really isn't much to say—but I suppose I could answer any questions you may have."  
"Is it hard being an angel?"  
"What's it like being an angel?"  
"Could I become an angel?"  
"How could YOU be an angel?"  
Candy, Cotton, Almond, and Nail (in that order) all said, practically in unison.  
Socks should have seen the "angel" thing coming, but he didn't think it would be that immediate.  
"An angel..." Socks began, unsure of himself. "It isn't too hard to maintain status as an angel once you've obtained that much; however obtaining as much is an entirely different story."  
"Ah, man," Almond groaned, disappointedly, to which, Socks smiled a rueful smile.  
"There are two ways: You're either born of divine parents, or you ascend to divinity by arbitrary method."  
"'Arbitrary'?" inquired Vanilla.  
"I'd say so. It's ridiculous, from what I've bothered to see and hear," Socks saw that he should elaborate, based upon the curious looks he was receiving. "When I say 'arbitrary,' I mean your worth is judged by whatever you do in the eyes of the Celestials—those up in Heaven right now. Each have their own individual opinions, but most of them are rather snobbish, self-absorbed bastards, so good luck earning their graces."  
Ignoring that he too could be snobbish and self-absorbed.  
"Is Heaven really such a nice place, then?" Cotton leaned in, and Almond mirrored his worried expression.  
"It's... perfect." Socks didn't know how else he could have described it.  
"Meaning?" Nail saw fit to ask.  
"Whatever you perceive as 'perfection'. That could either be good or bad... Whatever perfect is, it isn't for me, otherwise I wouldn't be here now." Socks hadn't thought along these lines in a very long time in fact.  
"Perfect," Candy said dreamily.  
"You would want to be, wouldn't you?" Cotton lightly smacked her shoulder.  
"Well of course. If I were perfect, life would be so much easier to live, right Socks?" Candy turned to face him again.  
Apparently she hadn't really been listening, otherwise she wouldn't have asked him.  
"... Yes." Socks grimaced at his pizza, growing colder by the minute.  
Nail, noticing Socks' expression, coughed and said, "but this talk is telling us nothing about Socks himself."  
Socks could have almost been grateful—no, he really was grateful.  
"Right, so, what do you want to know?"  
"Well for starters... Just how old are you? It's obvious you're not high school age." Nail crossed his arms, staring intently.  
"How old do I appear to you?" Socks raised his eyebrows.  
"Twentyyyyy-... two?" Nail shrugged. It was a half-assed guess.  
"Twenty-two then."  
"...Wait, what?"  
"Age is a complicated thing for Celestials," Socks paused to think—recalling the angels and archangels he'd interacted with during his time in Heaven. He remembered those young-looking, and elderly. "You would see children and elders, but both could potentially be that much older than any living human on Earth. Some live to be so old that they've all but forgotten their ages. It doesn't matter to us."  
"But then... How old ARE you?" Candy asked, wide-eyed.  
"Hmm... Do you really want to know?" Socks smirked. "Keep in mind, Boxer is my OLDER brother."  
"Uhh... Never mind, then." Candy withdrew and stared squarely at the floor underneath the table.  
Socks had his laugh, but he realized that he went and wasted food he'd tolerated, as he was so into conversation, Chuck went and ate those slices.

Socks returned home, feeling mixed about his previous outing with Daten High's students.  
Vanilla he still held in favor, valuing his opinion and company. With Nail, Socks found he respected the boy more than he liked him, personally. He chuckled as he recalled Candy, and Cotton and Almond. They were cute, but Candy bordered on obnoxious, and he figured she and Boxer would get along well enough.  
Speaking of Boxer, where was he? Socks walked into the front room, expecting to find Boxer passed out in front of the TV, but it was turned off, and there was no mess, or Boxer sprawled and snoring on the couch as there usually was.  
There were two possibilities: Either he was out with some hooker, or he got himself into some deep shit. Socks figured the former, but the latter was still a possibility, so—and it took a lot of doing—he reached into his pocket after placing Chuck into his sleeping bed next to the couch, and went upstairs while holding his cell he'd fished out to his ear.

"Hello. Who is this?" came a deep, yet very unfamiliar voice.  
It was cheery in attitude, as if something very good had happened recently. Socks stopped at the landing and remained quiet in contemplation.  
What was some man, other than his brother, doing answering his brother's cellphone? How did the cellphone come to be in this mystery man's possession? Where was Boxer right now? Socks's eyes gradually became wider as he continued this line of thought. It came to Cocoa, and Boxer's previous encounter with "her," eventually. But it wouldn't get off, until it came to the forbidden "maybe" that Socks joked about not too long ago.  
"Hello?" came the voice a second time.  
"What are you doing picking up my brother's cell?" Socks tried keeping his tone even, but it sounded angry, to Socks's horror.  
"Oh, so you're the other angel, then?"  
"...What of it?"  
The man responded, but his response was drowned out by the literal shock and scream that came from behind Socks. Socks went, two steps at a time, back into the front room where he found Chuck charcoaled and twitching.  
"I hope that isn't too much of a problem, then, Mr. Anarchy," the voice said, bringing Socks back down to Earth.  
"...'Problem'?"  
"Why, your brother being away with me for... oh, I think it may be two weeks... possibly."  
"_What_ will be 'two weeks,' Mr...?" Socks knelt down beside Chuck, cautiously reaching for the slip of paper the zipper dog vomited up, as if it would burn him as well.  
"Panther, and, well... That's how long I'll need to keep him for."  
"Panther..." Socks knew that name. Boxer mentioned it once or twice, but this time it spurred interest, and unrest on top of that. "I'll need to know where you'll be keeping him."  
"Do you really? I got the impression that you two didn't care what the other did in his personal life."  
"And I get the impression that my dear brother has gotten himself involved with elephant dung. Now tell me where he is, asswipe, before _I _find you _both_."  
"Hmm... You can try. In fact, do that. We'll be waiting."  
With that, the call ended before Socks could have said any more. He lowered his phone and glanced between it and the message from above.  
"... GODDAMMIT!"  
"Keep it down! Can't a lady get her beauty rest!?" was Suspender's response to Socks's sudden outburst.  
Socks began pacing. He would have to work hard to put that hole in the ground, though. Chuck kept at his heels, once he'd recovered from being broiled by lightning.  
Socks had been debating with himself, as he walked, whether or not he should call the Ginger Geek to aid him.  
I mean, Boxer really could have just decided he would try a piece of man-butt for himself after all, Socks thought. Hardly! No, this Panther character must have forced Boxer into... something. Perhaps Panther was keeping Boxer as a bondage sex slave, making him walk on all-fours, and only respond with bark and whine. Wait, hold on now! That was Socks's gay fantasy! ... Granted, that was his straight fantasy as well.  
The more Socks would dwell upon the probability of Boxer being enslaved, the more angry he became, and just a little bit envious.  
No! Now was not the time to think like that! After all, he couldn't go out around town with a raging boner (that was more Boxer's department).  
Socks held the clue back up to view. In brown letters this time was the word "Egg".  
"What? Is this ghost going to make me fear for the contents of my meal like the last?" Socks growled and crumpled the paper in his fist. "Do ghosts just not care about what we angels like to gorge ourselves on?!" He shouted to no one in particular.  
Well Chuck was there; the zipper dog inclined his head and perked an ear.  
"It looks like I have no choice after all," Socks reached for his phone yet again and dialed Knickers's.  
_Ring... ring... ring...  
_"Hello?"  
"Hello, Ginger."  
"Socks? Socks is that really you? What're you doing calling me?" Knickers sounded genuinely surprised that Socks nearly felt bad.  
Nearly.  
"I need use of your ghost-tracking device."  
"The Proton Pack!" Knickers said.  
"Yes, that."  
"I don't know, it's getting rather late, and I don't know if I should be going out now."  
"Then I'll come over to your house and get the damn thing for myself," Socks tried to keep calm, but it was becoming clear in his voice how irritated he was.  
"I—! Ah, all right."  
"... Sorry for this." Socks added as sort of an afterthought.  
"Chuck?" Chuck angled his head the other way this time.  
"No, not this time, you'd only get in the way, Chuck." Socks went by to his bedroom, feeling he ought to get a change of clothes.

But before he did that, Socks fetched his laptop and opened his browser, seeing if he could find any more information on this "Panther" character.  
What he found didn't come as too much of a shock to him, but what in the world would Boxer be doing with the mafia? Money was the only thing that came to mind, but was he really so desperate? It was dirty human money, what worth was it, really?  
Heaven Coin was what they really needed. Whatever, either this Panther was the ghost in question, or he was, at the very least, in league with the one they—well, Socks—needed to defeat this time around.  
"He'd better thank me for this," Socks mumbled, getting up and throwing on a striped dress shirt and dark vest.  
With it he also wore black trousers and heeled boots. He stood in front of his full-body mirror, mulling himself over. Did this really work well? It looked good on him. Well, Socks figured, anything would look good on him anyway, even women's clothing. Of course, thinking that, he thought instantly of the cross-dresser jab Boxer took at him, then he wondered if he really should be trying so hard for his brother after all?  
"He'd _really _better thank me for this!" Socks exclaimed, throwing on a jacket, as the days were steadily growing that much colder.  
Just before he went back out, he looked back at his reflection in the mirror and fingered a strand of his longer hair.

"No, he's not going to thank me at all..."


	6. Some Serious Ghost Hunting part 1

**6**

Knickers gave Socks the directions he needed, right after Socks recalled that he would probably need those, wouldn't he?  
"205, it was," he said it for the tenth, possibly eleventh time, as he drove Mink down the slope and out of the suburbs, into the city. Well one thing was for sure: Boxer couldn't say that Socks didn't get around anymore, not after tonight. Socks hoped it would only take this night to find the bastard... .

Socks approached Knickers's place warily. What nightmares awaited him as he came to enter her room? He was about to find out.

He knocked thrice on her door, and with only a slight delay, the door opened revealing...  
"...Cherub?" Socks uttered breathlessly, carefully regarding who he could only assume was Knickers.  
But then, she was the spitting image of that human woman he knew millennium ago; that one who took an angel's virginity, and further corrupted him with her feminine wiles.  
Hair red like fire—no, burnt orange—and eyes like emerald—no, Knickers's eyes were a less brilliant green, brilliant though they still were. Socks shook his head, reminding himself that the long-dead Cherub was just that—long dead.

"Who is Cherub?" Innocent, yet under-dressed Knickers had asked.  
"Nobody," Socks blinked himself back to reality and looked at Knickers again, and this time, he could only see the ways in which her and Cherub's appearances contrasted from each other. For one thing, Knickers's skin was paler, and thus, further highlighting the freckles riddling it here and there; on her face was where they were most prominent...  
Cherub's skin, on the other hand, was tanned and unblemished.  
And where Knickers's hair was orange and wavy, Cherub's was very red and very straight. Not to mention their height differences—Cherub being the taller one of the two.  
"Now that I think about it, you two look nothing alike."  
"I, is that a compliment or an insult?" Knickers hesitated to ask.  
"Both." Socks let himself in, and looked over Knickers's front room.

It was standard.  
There were a few odd nick-knacks strewn about, a big lump of white fur that turned out to be a lazy, fat cat, and the TV was turned on to some low-budget horror movie.  
"...Sooooo if you need the Proton Pack, I guess that only means there's another ghost afoot!" Knickers said excitedly, in a way that made as if she'd deduced some great mystery.  
Socks turned back to face her, and thought that she herself was in high contrast to the beige and chocolate brown of the walls and furniture of the room.  
She wore tight-fitting _Scooby Doo_ pajamas, but they were probably only tight because they were getting to be too small for her. Especially her bust, which threatened to pop a button or two. So not only was she heavy in hips, Knickers also had a pair of Knockers.  
"Uhm... Yes, that's right." Socks held his head, as if he had a headache. Good Lord, was he becoming like his brother, slowly but surely? Knickers's curious expression at Socks's behavior was arousing, seemingly mocking.  
She _knew _he was coming around here. Surely she must have realized just how provocative that kind of dress was! In front of a hot-blooded young male angel—wait, ...ANGEL! Upon realizing the obvious—that he and his brother were _nothing _alike in both appearance and personality—she probably didn't think too much about it. She probably thought that Socks was a far more dignified man, and would not let himself be bothered by something as measly as a human girl in her pajamas.  
Socks straightened his back and coughed in attempt to regain his composure. Why should it ever have been lost!?  
"Are you okay, Socks? I could get you a glass of water if you want." Knickers leaned in a little closer, unwittingly teasing Socks with a view of her bountiful, freckly cleavage.  
"Water would be nice...!"  
_Anything_ to keep her away for now...  
"Okay, I'll be right back!" She made an all-too-eager dash for the kitchen.  
Socks groped blindly as he watched her leave, eventually he found the sofa and sat down on it, sighing as he did so.  
It felt as though he'd just got back from running a marathon.

While Knickers took her time in the kitchen, Socks rubbed his eyelids in mild contemplation, startled shortly thereafter by the presence of Knickers's cat, who seemed to have taken an instant liking to him.  
"Hm," Socks picked up the cat, and was startled to see it go limp in his hands. "Oh, shit, I killed her cat..."  
"WHAT!" Knickers overheard and shrieked, which caused her to jolt and thus spill the water she had just got for Socks. After a few seconds, she calmed down, however. "O-oh no, she does that—she's a Ragdoll."  
"Excuse me?" Socks tilted his head in obvious confusion.  
"She's a breed of cat called a Ragdoll... T, they relax when you pick them up, that's where they get their name." Talking about her cat seemed to do her even more good, but then she realized that the water had soaked through her pajamas and apologized profusely for the mishap.  
"It's fine," Socks said, focusing on the simple task of setting the cat back down on the floor.  
"Right... I really should change." Knickers went back out, forgetting she had a half-empty glass of water in her hand.

Socks waited for a couple minutes for her, then raised his eyebrows at Knickers's choice of clothes when she returned. She was dressed to go out, in hunter green pants and jacket.  
"You look surprised," she said, moving her arms behind her back and swaying.  
Her hair fell in front like it had when they'd first met, concealing her pretty green eyes. That jacket didn't do any favors for her bosom either, making it appear average at best.  
"You're dressed differently—I mean, like you're coming with me," Socks said with his nose in the air.  
"Ohhhh! You have to let me come with you!" Knickers begged, clasping her hands in front of herself. "I want to help you and Boxer beat up ghosts this time!"  
There was a drawn out silence at the mention of Boxer.  
"Hey..." she said, "just where is Boxer anyway?"  
"Gone," Socks stood abruptly, startling the cat in the process. "Probably got his sorry ass captured by the ghost."  
"Wait... w, wait... That doesn't sound right..." Knickers held her head down.  
"It does to me." Socks said bitterly.  
"So then... I guess that's why you sounded angry when you called me, huh?"  
"Huh!?" Socks scowled at her. "Absolutely not! Why would I be angry my brother's been captured? He deserves whatever's coming to him for being the ignorant, hopeless man-ho he is!"  
"..." Knickers simply stared at him, fighting back a knowing smile.  
"Anyway... You're not coming with me."  
"Oh, I'm afraid I am." Knickers said, placing her hands haughtily on her hips.  
"What, Ginger?" Socks narrowed his eyes at her.  
"The Proton Pack activates via voice command. _I _tell it what to do." Knickers giggled. "You need it, don't you? Well, you'll have to bring me along for the ride if you want it to function at all."  
"You little—!"  
"Eep! Don't hurt me!" Knickers flinched and held her hands out to defend any blow Socks would throw at her.

Socks snorted, insulted. He would never hit a woman—human woman. Especially if they couldn't possibly defend themselves. Instead, Socks approached her calmly, and gently lowered her hands from her face.  
"I guess I have no choice, Ginger," Socks sighed. "Just stay your ass out of trouble... for my sake?" he paused for a moment to think. "Maybe you can treat me to a snack later."  
By Lord Almighty he was going to get SOMETHING out of this ordeal.  
"Oh, um... O-okay..."

Knickers couldn't resist flapping her gums the whole way once they had gone out. Socks bit back his own words and pretended to listen as the ghost detector did its work. But aside from the fact that Knickers was a born chatterbox, Daten was a large city to explore, and Boxer and the ghost could have been anywhere. Hell, they might not have even been in the city, as far as they could tell.  
Mink was built for speed and durability, but Socks figured the jeep wasn't nearly fast enough to escape _this_ threat. That Proton-Detector-Package-Thing-a-Ma-jigger was faulty at best. Sure, the thing helped them to find Strawberry Milk when it did, but that had been in an enclosed area, so they were bound to find her shortly. Socks couldn't be sure about this, and Knickers's constant yapping was, as he predicted, grating on his nerves.  
For two hours they searched, until finally Socks stood bemused in front of a seemingly abandoned warehouse. This was the last place Socks expected to end up at, and he seemed quite ready to leave.  
"Where are you going?" Knickers asked him as Socks strayed further and further away.  
Socks didn't answer her as he ventured over to a second, neighboring warehouse building, and then the next, disappearing out of sight. Knickers stood stock-still, conflicted with herself. She could try and find him but the Proton Pack was insisting the ghost was in this particular warehouse, bleeping incessantly as it were. She glanced over her shoulder at Mink, then back at the warehouse, stuck between. She could try and drive Mink away in an attempt to escape a bad situation, OR! she could march her way right on inside and confront the ghost and rescue Boxer on her own!  
The latter seemed far more appealing to her, and just as she was mustering the courage to follow suit, Socks reappeared in an instant, emerging from the shadows like a spectral ghost himself.  
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!" Knickers squealed.  
"Shut up," Socks whacked her upside her silly ginger head. "We're going inside."  
"W, w, where WERE you? You just up and left me here!"  
"I did a quick check of the perimeter... What I found was... odd." Socks did not elaborate on the matter, instead he zipped his jacket closed and straightened his back more, in preparation to head inside the foreboding warehouse.  
"W, wait for me!" Knickers tripped and stumbled in after him, following the Goth Angel's lead.  
"Be quiet, would you?" Socks whispered desperately.

Socks could sense something was wrong here too, very wrong. On his walk around outside, he came across peculiar clumps of silk—cobwebs littered everywhere. It would not have been out of the ordinary if there weren't massive bunches everywhere he looked. As if a thousand diligent spiders set to work on a project to cover the entire area in a web.  
But spiders don't work like that... At least, he was pretty damned sure they didn't.  
As he pondered this, he slowly began to realize the sweat trickling down his face and neck. It was far hotter and more humid here than outside. Which was ridiculous. It was egging on winter just outside, and in here it felt like the dead of summer. Socks had no choice but to remove his jacket.  
Knickers shed her own jacket and tied it around her waist by the sleeves, whereas Socks made to toss his away like trash; until he saw Knickers's alternative and followed her example instead. Knickers noticed this, and gave him a smile, which he promptly ignored.

They walked along the aisles in silence. The further they went in, the darker their surroundings became.  
Knickers fumbled about with her Proton Pack, sounding as if she was having a wrestling match with it, until a light came on, emitted by the odd device itself.  
"That thing certainly has many uses..." Socks mumbled absently.  
"Yep! Handy, isn't it?" Knickers said, giving her multifunctional 'Pack a fond pat on its side before putting it back on. After which they continued their journey, feeling as if they'd stumbled upon and into a jungle, rather than a warehouse. Were warehouses really this hot? Socks had never been in one. He figured there would be insulation, or fans or something to regulate the temperature. But that wouldn't do very much, considering just outside there was already a need for jackets and coats.  
Something was manipulating the temperature inside, something otherworldly—supernatural.  
There was definitely a ghost here. Socks had to hand it to the Ginger Geek... again. Her machine worked, and well, he hated to admit it. And as Knickers shone its light, in its glow, it revealed there to be an absurd amount of cobweb and gossamer coating the brackets and crates aligned on either side of them. And then below, it almost seemed as if the webs were encroaching upon them on the walls and floor.  
Knickers trembled and shook in panic. From afar, the webbing almost seemed like snow cover, and it was this Knickers told herself to keep her nerves better. Regardless, she kept damn well where she was.  
It just so happened Knickers had an innate fear of spiders.

She could handle bugs. In fact she very much liked insects! They fascinated her. Beetles and roaches especially. She could even stomach the dreaded snake and caterpillar. But no. Not spiders. It was just something about the eight-legged menace she just could not handle. The mere sight of them chilled her to the bone.  
Maybe the fear was caused by some childhood trauma? She didn't know, all she knew was that she was terrified of the little monsters, and she wanted _nothing _to do with them!  
While Knickers remained standing, shaking in her boots in the very same spot, Socks went on ahead to examine the mess closer.  
He tried the webs with his hand; tough, pliant, non-stick.  
The first two were to be expected, but wasn't the point to stick? Unless he were to diverge a bit from the norm, in which case, huntsman, and funnel-web spiders came to mind. But the first did not build webs, and these webs here didn't seem beneficial to a funnel spider. It didn't seem to benefit any spider, considering all it really did was encase the thing it was mounted on. The only time any spider would do that, was if it was building an egg sac for its young.  
Wait... Egg. EGG!  
"Shit..."  
"WHAT!" Knickers yelped, to which Socks urgently shushed her.  
Too late.  
A thousand and one spiders of sizable nature emerged from the depths of the warehouse and came at them, bearing the hues typical of your rudimentary ghost.

**_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!_**

Socks clasped one hand to Knickers's mouth to keep her the fuck quiet, while he threw off his boot and hurriedly transformed his sock into a longsword to defend himself with.  
"Stay back, Ginger!"  
Socks swung at the few spiders close enough, hacking off their frontal legs and slicing through their heads. He kicked one back to buy himself some time to grab at his other sock and turn that one into another longsword, to which he dual-wielded to protect Knickers and his own hide.  
"There are too many of them!" Knickers said, stating the obvious.  
"Run you nitwit!" Socks backed into her and shoved her in the direction opposite of the on-coming horde.  
"But what about you?!"  
Socks glanced back at her as if she'd lost her mind, but urged her with his back still, locking the blades of his longsword together in a purely defensive stance.  
"Don't worry about me... _human_." Socks enunciated "human" to emphasize the difference between them. He'd likely survive this ordeal if he lost, it didn't take a genius to figure that much out.  
But something about the way he said "human" just rubbed Knickers the wrong way.  
So, even though she was shaking, clacking her knees together in a disturbing and audible manner, she readied a nozzle crudely attached to her Proton backpack, and directed it at the horde of spiders. She shut her eyes as she pushed a button with her thumb, and discharged massive amounts some turquoise liquid. The smell of it wasn't at all revolting. It was quite minty fresh~  
"... Toothpaste?" Socks gaped and stared wide-eyed as the hose sprayed a seemingly endless amount of toothpaste on the offending spiders and they were downed in minutes.  
The spiders were alive, of course, it was only toothpaste, but there were so much of it that it rendered them either immobile, or sluggish. Some were even stuck to each other.  
"That sort of worked..." Knickers declared, finally opening her eyes.  
"I... What the fuck are you doing with that much toothpaste, Ginger? How? Why? Just... 'The FUCK!?" Socks was looking at this from every possible angle, and still he couldn't make sense of it.  
"I keep forgetting to buy the essentials sometimes..." Knickers admitted sheepishly. "It's because I'm so caught up in researching the paranormal, and inventing new gadgets to help with that research. A friend suggested, after I got the initial Proton Pack, that I make it into an All-in-One—"  
"That's... enough. I get the gist of it." Socks shook his head, not understanding it at all.  
"**_OhmyGodsomeofthemarestillmoving_**!" Knickers exclaimed, and hurriedly jumped back.  
"Well of course, it's only toothpaste," Socks shook his head, "but they shouldn't be able to catch up with us if we just keep moving."  
With that Socks grabbed Knickers's arm and pulled her away from the ghostly spiders.  
"Ghost spiders, really?" Socks muttered in disbelief as they continued in another direction, onwards.  
"Yeah, why couldn't they be ghost puppies instead?" Knickers asked, sighing hopelessly.  
"Because ratings would plummet if the main cast were brutalizing puppies. We'd be receiving hatemail, and complaints from PETA and the general populace, no doubt about it."  
"...Well yeah, if you're gonna take it _that _serious..." Knickers shivered.  
"I wish you wouldn't make such stupid comments in the first place," Socks shook his head. "Anyway, when it's that many spiders, there's usually a leader, or a the very least a mother (Knickers made a noise of utter horror at the prospect). Believe it or not, some species of spiders are social and can work together for their benefit. However, I don't think these ghost spiders follow every rule. If the Message from Above is anything to go on, I can only surmise that these spiders' only goal is to reproduce, indefinitely."  
"Ewwwww!"  
"I'll have to agree," Socks eventually found a corner devoid of silk and sat down. He sighed and turned to face Knickers. "I'm no pushover, but even I can't handle vast numbers like that. Listen, I have to ask you a question..."  
"Y-yes?" Knickers was hesitant to sit beside Socks, but did so, forever wary of her current surroundings. After all, they were basically sitting in a nest of giant ghost spiders.  
"What do you know of a man named 'Panther'?"  
"Panther? Not much. ...If it's the Panther I'm thinking of, he used to do business with my father, but they had differing opinions. Fighting happened … After that, I never really saw him again, but I heard some things..."  
"I see... Well... one way or another, it seems this Panther is involved in this mess. And I can only assume that he's holding Boxer captive somewhere. If not here than around here."  
"Huh? But... That just doesn't make any sense, Socks! I mean, Boxer's an angel!"  
"... I'm afraid to say that if Panther is human, then there isn't much Boxer can do against him. If he commands an army of spiders as big as the horde we just escaped from, or bigger, I can't see Boxer standing much of a chance."  
"If Panther is a human... So then... Boxer can't hurt humans?" Knickers nodded to herself. "I can understand that."  
"Oh, he can 'hurt' humans—I hear he likes to brawl for whatever reason," Socks couldn't help but roll his eyes. "However, our weapons do nothing against them. They were designed to harm the corrupt and the damned. Of course, the only one fit to actually judge us all in the end is God Himself. But if Boxer were to kill a human—a single human—he would forever be lost, and will never reenter the gates of Heaven."  
Socks grunted and got to his feet once again.  
"I just needed a break..." he says, sighing and running his hands through his hair. It was so incredibly hot upstairs, that he was considering hacking off the inches recently gained with his longsword. "Anyway, he and I still have our chance, and that's why we're fighting. Our only goal is to return to Heaven, and to do that we must dispose of the ghosts that plague Daten City. Understand?" Socks looked at her, expectantly.  
"You two are a little more selfish than I thought..." Knickers said, but there wasn't any clear contempt in her voice.  
She seemed willing to accept this news, and as she too got up, she seemed just as willing to help Socks accomplish this.  
"You're a weird one..." Socks said, then shrugged. "Come on, he must be around here somewhere."

"I'm right behind you!"

To be continued...


End file.
